Midnight Dancers
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: In one last fight, Antonio's life is taken from him in the sounds of a blaring horn and screeching metal. Now lonely and bitter, Lovino has shut out the world around him. But what if his dear lover comes back from the dead as not a man but a child?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, new story! I hope you all enjoy this one! This idea hit me one day in my science class when I was supposed to be paying attention to the lesson. All well, I suppose I'll never learn :D Be warned, there are a few time skips in here but this chapter is just so the story gets moving. Next chapter will be longer, promise.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>"Then maybe you should just leave!" Lovino shouted the words that had been infecting his mind all day and now were left hanging in the already suffocating atmosphere. The look on Antonio's face made Lovino want to take back those words- those horrid words that he never meant to say.<p>

But he did mean to say them.

He… really did want Antonio to leave and disappear from his life forever. This was inevitable- they had been fighting non-stop for the past two months and it had managed to worsen in a mere few days. Neither could stand to look at the other without tension settling and sparking another feud.

Even with the regret eating at his heart, his anger and pride wouldn't allow him to falter and apologize to the man he had grown to love. Now, with the shock of having left his face and was nothing but a blank canvas, Antonio moved towards their shared room to pack his belongings.

Lovino stood frozen in the center of the living room while Antonio bustled about, his presence becoming nothing but white noise to the Italian. Suitcase in hand, Antonio paused by the door, wanting desperately for Lovino to change his mind. However, the latter stood there with arms crossed accompanied by firm expectant look upon his face.

That was all Antonio needed when he left the house with a broken heart. He knew Lovino was a stubborn creature and stood by his decisions with utmost conviction. That was what Antonio loved about Lovino. But this was one choice he feared his lover wouldn't make.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Antonio sped away, missing when the Italian suddenly called out his name to wait. As the tail lights disappeared down the street, anger began to bubble up inside Lovino again making his skin red hot and eyes burn with tears.

He stormed back into the house and slammed the door with all his might.

He didn't need Antonio.

No…

He would be just fine without him!

That's right.

He didn't need that Spaniard to make him happy.

…even if said Spaniard had become his everything.

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><p>Amidst the crowd, Lovino found himself standing in the very back, not even having the courage to see what was in front of the other attendees. He didn't want to see the wooden casket that contained the lifeless cadaver that was his Antonio.<p>

Within the sounds of a blaring horn and screeching metal, Antonio had left just as he wanted.

He had no desire to see that peaceful face. Such an expression did not fit well- he wanted to see the bright smile that had dimmed and glowing emerald eyes that were now closed forever.

He wanted…

He wanted…

…his Antonio; he desired what was now out of his reach. He desired what he gave away.

"_Fratello?" _the hand that was placed on Lovino's shoulder tore him from his agonizing thoughts.

The Italian turned though he knew full well who it was. Feliciano's golden eyes stared at his brother with much concern. Lovino made no move to shrug away his brother's hand and stared at the steadily waving grass. With the wind whispering through the trees, Lovino could feel Antonio's hand brushing through his hair reassuringly.

Feliciano didn't dare ask if his brother was okay. He had never seen Lovino so crestfallen- so broken. Feliciano's hand slid from its position and back down to his side. The younger Italian caught the faint glistening of tears in the bright sunlight pricking the corner of Lovino's eyes.

Lovino was far too proud to cry, though.

"_Fratello, _it's… it's okay to cry," Feliciano spoke with uncertainty.

"Cry? Why would I cry?" Lovino tried to steady his voice as he spun on his heel and left his brother as Kiku and Ludwig came to the latter's side.

"Because-" Feliciano started but stopped when he felt Ludwig's cool ocean eyes on him.

"Leave him be," Ludwig was sensing Feliciano's distress. "I assume he wants to be alone at the moment."

Feliciano nodded, giving his brother the space that was much needed.

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><p>Out in the bright sunshine, Lovino remained among the garden of thriving tomatoes that flourished in the past five months since Antonio's passing. The wind caressed his face tenderly, making what seemed to be a smile appear on his face. He often came out here when his mind became too cluttered with useless thoughts and Antonio's invisible presence would send him back into tranquility.<p>

He laid back into the grass and it tickled his face.

At least here… they had all the time in the world.

A small whimper broke the silence and Lovino perked to attention, instantly searching for the source of the noise. He scoured through the large garden, looking high and low. Another cry resounded and was just as desperate as the first.

In the midst of the vegetation, a wicker basket had been placed on the ground with a blanket covering whatever was inside. The blanket became agitated and rippled as what seemed to be small hands pushing against it. Lovino pulled the cloth back to reveal a fussing infant dressed in an oversized white linen gown that looked no more than to be a few months old.

A baby…?

Why in the world was a baby lying in his garden?

Lovino reached down for the child and picked him up, taking note of his tan skin and brunette curls of hair. Once feeling the warm sunshine on his face and in the arms of someone, the baby immediately stopped crying and opened his eyes.

Beneath those eyelids were curious emerald orbs that stared at him, emanating youth and innocence that echoed someone who had long since been gone.

"Antonio…?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Told you it'd be longer- I assume we're all satisfied, yes? /shot. There's more baby Toni in here so hopefully it is to your liking. Oh and as a quick note before you begin, Lovino will be facing brief acceptance issues because I don't see him be a complete ass to a helpless infant. But that's just me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>C<strong>**hapter Two**

With some hint of what seemed to be recognition and fascination, the infant Lovino assumed was his dead lover reached out and touched his cheek and gurgled lightly while some spittle trailed down his chin. The Italian's nose wrinkled slightly and held the child out at arm's length, earning a befuddled look from emerald orbs.

No, this infant couldn't be Antonio; it just wasn't possible!

People don't come back from the dead no matter how hard you pray or how many tears you shed.

Life was cruel in that sense and it had proved its point to the Italian in more ways than one. He knelt beside his bed and prayed for Antonio to come back until his knees cried for mercy. He cried for Antonio until his eyes were puffy and dry of tears. He had loved Antonio until his heart had nearly burst from the raw emotion.

There was no one listening to his wishes.

No one cared enough to.

The baby cooed again and brought him from his thoughts which he seemed to be doing often lately. He couldn't spend the entire day cooped up in the sanctuary of his own mind. He needed to find the kid's parents as soon as possible- and in Lovino's terms that meant in the next hour or so.

But without a note or any form of identification for said child, Lovino was at a complete loss (he downright refused to acknowledge that the baby could very well be Antonio). He honestly didn't know where to begin. Nonetheless, he was going to search. His town was only so big with a limited population. _Someone _had to be the parent!

While Lovino was once again left to think, the brunette infant stared at Lovino fondly but also with interest as he tried to figure out the man before him. He felt safe with this person. He had saved him! He had taken him away from the dark and terribly uncomfortable place he was and removed the heavy blue thing covering his face. Though he had never seen this person, he wanted to be pulled close by the arms that were holding him away.

He could sense that this was the closest thing to safety he was going to get and he was in no position to pass it up. The infant extended his arms to try and touch the Italian in front of him and whimpered when he was unable to do so. He sniffled lightly as tears pricked his beautiful emerald eyes. Catching the gaze from the baby, Lovino read the plea screaming in his eyes and for a split second, Lovino considered taking the child in and raising him. However, Lovino quickly pushed that idea from his mind.

He couldn't raise a kid! He was still so young himself!

_Maybe Feliciano would take on the responsibility_, he concluded.

His younger brother had always wanted kids and being given the fact that he was with Ludwig and the duo were planning to adopt, this was the perfect opportunity for the both of them. Feliciano had the paternal instinct Lovino sorely lacked. He assumed the infant was no more than two months old so he hopefully would adjust fairly quickly to his new life. He didn't see why the baby wouldn't.

Feliciano and Ludwig being the parents were in the child's best interest.

This was the right thing to do.

Raising the kid was out of the question.

…no matter how much said child painfully resembled Antonio.

With his mind made up, Lovino walked inside his empty home and laid the infant on the couch and dialed Feliciano's number shortly after. During this, Antonio took in his surroundings curiously but soon became preoccupied with his newly discovered hands and stared at his palms as slid they out from the too long sleeves of his gown. He placed them together, reveling in the amazing sense of touch and the softness of his own skin.

Lovino hung up with Feliciano after a very short conversation due to Feliciano's excitement of 'seeing the little _bambino.' _And Lovino was content with that. He had left out the part that he was going to be handing the kid off to his brother but he would explain that when said brother arrived. It was already off to a good start and now it was all up to how the baby would accommodate to his new parents that would be arriving in just fifteen minutes.

Whoever entrusted a child to him could've possibly just made the biggest mistake of their life.

With his gaze compelled towards Antonio who was still playing with his hands and cooing innocently, Lovino felt whatever heart he had left break. Why all of a sudden was he feeling regret for making the decision to send a baby- who, by the way, he has never seen before in his entire life- with his younger brother?

He shook his head quickly.

This was the best option! He had to stand by his convictions just as he always did! This situation would be no different! He was perfectly content alone. He was just fine living in the deafening silence. On the couch and clearly beginning to panic from thinking he had been left unaccompanied, Antonio began to snivel quietly before it turned into a loud wail.

Lovino stared at him, unmoving. What was he supposed to do? He didn't want to comfort the baby lest he become more emotionally involved than he already (subconsciously) was. Lovino averted his gaze when he saw the tears slicking down Antonio's rosy cheeks.

The Italian stood frozen, his golden orbs as hard as amber itself. Antonio's cries rose in volume and in octave, becoming a full blown scream as his arms and legs flailed about helplessly in the air. Unable to endure it any longer, Lovino sat down on the couch beside him and hoisted the baby into his lap with one hand behind his head and the other on the small of Antonio's back.

Feeling himself in the larger hands of his rescuer, Antonio quieted considerably and his watery eyes focused in on Lovino. The emerald eyes seemed to desperately crying out, _"Where were you? Why did you leave me?"_

This tugged at the faint strings of Lovino's heart and he sighed. Was he really doing the right thing? Antonio seemed to be so attached to him despite only meeting him moments before. The doorbell rang and the infant's eyes darted around trying to find the source of the foreign sound.

Lovino stood, Antonio still in his arms and answered the door, moving aside so Feliciano and Ludwig could enter his home. Feliciano darted towards Antonio and began rapidly speaking Italian to express his adoration. Ludwig sighed softly and proceeded to close the door being that Lovino was busy. Antonio gazed at the newcomers with much confusion.

Who were they?

"He's so adorable!" Feliciano exclaimed happily as he took Antonio into his arms. "So you said you found him in your garden?"

Lovino nodded, "In a basket with a blanket covering him. There wasn't any information on him so I don't know how old he is or what his name is."

'_Antonio,' _a voice whispered in his head and Lovino pointedly ignored it.

"He looks to be about two months old or so. Maybe even older," Ludwig observed.

"Regardless of how old he is, he is so cute!" Feliciano rubbed his and Antonio's noses together and the child squealed in delight before gurgling and grabbing a handful of Feliciano's hair. The young Italian laughed and crooned to him softly in Italian.

"He looks an awful lot like Antonio," Ludwig said and Feliciano shot his German lover a surprised look before turning back to Antonio with a scrutinizing eye.

"You're right!" Feliciano gasped in amazement. "How weird… I'm sure it's just a coincidence though. You don't think Antonio went out and got some girl pregnant, do you?"

"It's probable but I doubt he did. He loved Lovino too much," Ludwig shook his head and that ended the conversation so as to spare Lovino more of the heartache he knew the Italian was feeling.

Once realizing his mistake of speaking of the Spaniard so lightly, Feliciano was about to apologize but thought it best to remain silent lest his brother yell at him for being insensitive though it was unintentional. He continued playing with baby Antonio and the child's laughter filled the room again.

Lovino clenched and unclenched his fists. Ludwig watched the two before turning his attention to Lovino, immediately sensing that his lover's brother was troubled.

"Something bothering you, Lovino?" Ludwig asked lowly as to not let Feliciano hear him.

"What do you care?" Lovino shot back bitterly but followed the other's example of a hushed tone.

"Because you look like you're about to have a complete meltdown," Ludwig replied and the stony glare he received from Lovino didn't go overlooked but he continued anyway. "You should go and compose yourself before Feliciano notices."

Lovino spun on his heel and hurried up the stairs to the bathroom, silently being grateful to the blonde German. Upon reaching the bathroom, Lovino stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't look all too bad but his eyes said otherwise. They were a colorful palette of anger, confusion and fear. The tears welling up in the corners enhanced the swirling emotions and Lovino turned on the faucet to splash some water on his face.

It should _not_ be affecting him this much!

He was acting ridiculous!

He had no ties with the child (who he was pretty sure w_asn't _Antonio no matter how much they looked alike) that was downstairs being given all the attention and love that one could ever want. But what was this feeling he had? He, in all honesty, did not want to see the infant go. He knew that the baby was Antonio nonetheless he didn't want to admit it.

In fact, he didn't know what he wanted or rather he didn't want to come to terms with it.

After drying his face, Lovino slowly made his way down to the living area where Feliciano was tossing the baby into the air albeit he never truly let Antonio out of the security of his hands. The brunette infant squealed and grinned, revealing his toothless gums.

_They're perfect for each other, _Lovino thought rather sullenly.

Even though Antonio had returned as an innocent child who knew nothing of him, Lovino knew full well he couldn't make Antonio happy. He wouldn't even come close. He couldn't do it before so why even bother trying?

_Antonio will be in good hands, _his thoughts went against the small voice in his head to reassess this.

Ludwig threw him a look that wordlessly asked if he was okay. Lovino gave a sharp nod and sat on the couch adjacent to the one Ludwig was seated on and dully watched Feliciano and Antonio bond in the few short minutes they had been here.

"So, _fratello," _Feliciano began, "is there a specific reason you called us over here? You never really invite us often so this is a bit of a surprise."

Damn, he had forgotten how observant Feliciano had become as the years went by. Lovino tensed prior to speaking, "Yes. I wanted to ask you if you would take this child in and raise him as your own. You two have been discussing adoption for some time now and I figured I'd save you both the paperwork and give him to you. I'm not suited to raise a damn kid."

Feliciano turned to Ludwig and the German had a blank expression.

"But you are _fratello. _I don't know why you would say something like that. It's obvious that the little _bambino _loves you already. I don't think he'd want to stay with us," Feliciano deduced with a sad smile.

It was apparent his brother wanted to keep the child and it pained him to decline the offer but Feliciano knew keeping the infant away from one familiar face would be even more upsetting. With this said, Feliciano handed the baby back to Lovino who took him hesitantly and with wide eyes.

"What part of I'm not fucking able to raise a kid do you not understand? He'll hate me and that's the last thing I need!" Lovino countered.

"No he won't," Feliciano gave his brother a reassuring smile. "I'm positive he won't. Plus, I know you really don't want to give him up."

"How-?"

"I'm your brother. I'm supposed to be able to tell these kinds of things."

"You've been hanging out with the potato bastard for too long. He's starting to rub off on you," Lovino commented though there was no malice behind it. Instead there was a relief he didn't realize he had been waiting to come.

Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"But thank you for the generous offer, _fratello. _I think you're beginning to grow soft on us," Feliciano grinned and Lovino scowled ineffectively.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"We can't!" Feliciano replied cheerily and moved towards his German boyfriend. "You'll need baby supplies and we're going to help you, right Ludwig?"

"Sure," Ludwig answered with uncertainty since he was new to this whole baby subject, too.

"Great! Let's go!" Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's hand and was heading towards the door with the enthusiasm of a toddler while said German was trying to keep in stride with his lover.

Lovino followed behind the duo and blinked rapidly to adjust to the bright sunshine. Antonio took in his new hometown with the utmost interest contained within emerald eyes that rivaled the sun's radiance.

The town of Cuore was quaint and friendly with a population of five-thousand and away from the bustle of the larger cities. The shopping district was within walking distance and there was never an unfamiliar face. That was just how Lovino liked it and Antonio had grown to like it, too.

They arrived at the market in a time of just a few minutes and Feliciano headed into the baby aisles where he scanned the shelves with an adept gaze. Ludwig had gone to grab a basket to place their items in and Lovino tagged along with his younger brother.

"Do you even have any idea what you're looking for?" Lovino questioned with a poorly concealed bemused expression on his face.

"Sure do," Feliciano had a chipper smile as he was already deciding among the formulas that would be best for Antonio. "I had to make sure I was prepared for when Ludwig and I were going to adopt."

"He really is beginning to rub off on you," Lovino muttered.

"I don't see why you don't like him. He's a nice guy, trust me!" Feliciano picked up a specific brand of formula and held onto it while he continued searching the shelves.

"I just don't want him to be an asshole to you. Only I'm allowed to do that," Lovino remarked childishly.

"_Fratello, _be nice!" Feliciano nearly whined.

"This is my nice. You know I have a more colorful language I could be using," Lovino said.

Feliciano couldn't help but agree. There was a comfortable silence between the two despite Antonio's constant cooing and Feliciano was the one who decided to break it.

"Promise me you'll take good care of him. He's so little and doesn't understand much."

Lovino was shocked at his brother's words. The paternal protection emitting from Feliciano was almost palpable. Gazing back to Antonio who stared at him innocuously, Lovino nodded in response to his brother's request.

"Thank you, _fratello. _Antonio needs you now more than ever."

Wait, what?

Lovino's heart skipped a few beats and his mind staggered; did Feliciano just…?

"What did you call him?" Lovino murmured.

"Hm?" Feliciano looked away from the shelf. "Oh, I called him Antonio. That's his name, right?"

"Well, yeah, but how in the hell did you know?" Lovino's mind was still reeling.

"I didn't," was Feliciano's answer. "You just told me. I only guessed since they look so much alike."

Lovino didn't bother to question the rationality of that statement but only proceeded to inwardly become aggravated. Since when had Feliciano become so attentive?

The older Italian nearly growled in the back of his throat, "You can't tell anyone about this. Not even Ludwig- I don't care who it is."

"I won't, _fratello. _Your secret is safe with me, I promise," Feliciano smiled reassuringly which ended the discussion permanently.

Ludwig returned with the basket and Feliciano placed enough food to last Antonio for the next few weeks and moved onto pampers and other hygienic items. The load in the basket was piling up fast and Lovino was almost certain that he wouldn't have the money to pay for all of it.

Clothes for Antonio came next since Feliciano dismissed the oversized white linen gown the infant was currently wearing. Once finding out the size that would fit best, Feliciano began selecting outfits left and right with little opinion from Ludwig and Lovino. Meanwhile, Antonio had found Lovino's shirt appealing and began to nibble on it, dampening the dark cloth with saliva.

Lovino's face scrunched up in disgust at the slight wetness coming in contact with his skin.

This would definitely take some getting used to.

"I think that's it," Feliciano dusted off his hands for emphasis of his hard work. "Don't worry, _fratello, _I'm paying since it was my idea."

"I'm perfectly capable of paying, damn it," Lovino grumbled.

"You want to half it then?" Feliciano offered, evidently adamant about paying for at least half.

"Fine," Lovino said, knowing his brother wouldn't get off his case unless he coincided with him.

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><p>"Are you planning on making the guest bedroom a nursery?" Feliciano asked as they put away the newly bought supplies into its proper place. "If you are then we should decorate it red and green!"<p>

"I might," Lovino poked his head back into the living room and his eyes watched a sleeping Antonio for a brief second. The baby had been changed into a red shirt and forest green shorts to suit the weather while his previous clothes had been discarded. He returned to continue helping. "It'll depend on my mood."

"I'll be more than happy to help!" Feliciano beamed his radiant smile. "Are you going to help, too, Ludwig? Please say you will! It'll be so much fun!"

"Ja," Ludwig called from the empty hall closet, currently preoccupied with stacking the boxes of pampers and baby wipes neatly. Lovino didn't even think he was listening.

"Then it's settled! We'll come over as often as we can," Feliciano promised as he closed the cabinet.

"What else would you two be doing?" Lovino raised an eyebrow in suspicion. He was anxious to find out the answer to such a question.

"Well we'll be looking at children to adopt this week and the next. It'll be fairly busy for us with the paperwork and making sure the house is ready for the _bambino."_

Lovino nodded, "I guess that's everything."

Feliciano rested his hand on his brother's shoulder, "Remember what I said, Lovino."

The older Italian knew his brother meant serious business. Feliciano never used his full name.

"How can I forget? You keep constantly reminding me," Lovino let out an exasperated sigh.

Feliciano smiled, "Oh and try to keep the cursing down to a minimum. You have young ears present now."

"Whatever," Lovino rolled his eyes but nevertheless heeded his brother's words.

"We'll see you two later. I'll let you know when we can come and help with the nursery," Feliciano headed to the door with Ludwig.

"All right. Thanks for everything… I guess," Lovino mumbled the last part.

"No problem! Just give us a call if you need anything!" Feliciano took Ludwig's hand and they left.

Lovino's sigh sounded much too loud in the quiet that had alighted in the atmosphere but Antonio didn't stir from his blissful slumber. With a gentle and hesitant approach, Lovino reached out and set his hand atop Antonio's head and ran his fingers through the silky curls of hair as his own wishes to protect the child blossomed within him as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three, ooh rah! (I've always wanted to say that for some reason). I would like to thank all those who are reading/reviewing/favoriting/alerting my story! It means so much! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now, fair warning, Lovino is going to become slightly OOC in future chapters due to the paternal instinct he is now developing over Antonio (as much as he doesn't want to admit it).**

**Warnings: language, Spamano**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

His fingers ghosted over the glossy wooden surface and his reflection stared back at him with somber golden eyes. Moving onto the neglected ivory keys, a few light notes trickled into the room as he touched them delicately. It had been so long since he last played. In the five months of Antonio's absence, the Italian hadn't dared to even glance at the piano let alone consider playing. Lovino sat in front of the large instrument and sighed, casually glancing over the unfinished sheet music.

The written notes danced daintily across the page and were interrupted very few times where Lovino had made subtle changes to the music.

"_Lovi, will you play me a song?"_

Lovino shook his head to remove the memory if not the melancholy beginning to settle on his heart. Antonio's request still rang strongly in his heart, though, forever finding its place there. The memory did not leave, however…

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><p>"<em>I would love to hear you play for me, Lovi," Antonio grinned as he leaned against the large instrument.<em>

"_Forget it, I'm tired," Lovino crossed his arms and turned away from the Spaniard._

"_Aw, Lovi, don't be like that," Antonio pouted, his green eyes sparkling. "Please, mi amor?"_

_Lovino glanced at Antonio, taking note of the putty feeling he received when the man spoke Spanish to him. He still remained resistant nonetheless._

"_Lovi~ por favor?"_

"_All right, fine, if it'll get you off my back for a while," Lovino sat down on the bench, not having a particular song in mind. Fingers in the correct positions, the song carried on warmly and without much thought on his part. The Italian let it flow from his fingertips, letting them speak his unspoken words. Antonio listened carefully, losing himself within it._

_That always happened when his lover would play him songs. He seemed to forget the world entirely and just focused on the one man he would hold in his heart forever. It was just the two of them right now and nothing else mattered._

_Antonio would love this man forever._

_Nothing could ever break them apart._

_He knew that for a fact._

_They were like light and dark, the moon and the sun- one couldn't be without the other._

_And he also knew Lovino loved him with the same vigor. He had been told countless times. Sighing in content, Antonio watched the Italian reach what he assumed was the last measure. Eyes flicking to Antonio, Lovino removed his hands from the keys and waited for the Spaniard's reaction._

"_Bravo, Lovi," Antonio clapped. "That was wonderful!"_

_Lovino's eyes shot to another part of the room but the deep blush coloring his cheeks was satisfactory enough to Antonio. The taller man laughed exultantly, taking Lovino's hand and pulling his lover up off the bench and close to him._

"_Wh-What do you want, tomato-jerk?" Lovino's cheeks remained a dark crimson._

"_Is it a crime to want to hold my love close?" Antonio nuzzled his face into Lovino's soft hair._

"_M-Maybe so let go of me!" Lovino pushed the Spaniard away but to no avail._

"_Lovi, you're so cruel to me~!" Antonio placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Why must you neglect me so?"_

"_Because you're a tomato loving bastard who doesn't want to let go of me!" Lovino weakly struggled in Antonio's strong arms._

"_But I love you so much," Antonio pouted again, looking like a kicked puppy. "Ti amo…"_

_Lovino's red-tinged cheeks darkened (if that was at all possible) and the Italian muttered what sounded like, "Ti amo troppo."_

_Placing his hand underneath the shorter man's chin, Antonio gently tilted Lovino's head up, immediately closing the distance between them with a chaste kiss that only deepened and escalated into a night of even more stolen kisses and amorous touches._

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><p>He had sworn to himself that he would never play again because it reminded him too much of his dead lover. And, unbeknownst of his actions and with much hesitation, Lovino followed through with Antonio's wish.<p>

Placing his fingers in their correct positions so he could begin, Lovino played the first few notes of the song before easily melting into it. It's sad and sweet tune carried on throughout the house softly. Each key that was brushed, each note that was sung wordlessly, Lovino felt a little more of himself die but also be revived by the sleeping child in the next room.

Lovino ended the piece abruptly, taking the pencil nearby and scribbling another few notes of the staff. The musical ear he had acquired over the years echoed the melody in his head hauntingly as he incorporated said notes into the piece. He began to play it from the most recent measure, nodding in satisfaction when it sounded exactly as he desired.

Glancing at the small note he made at the top right corner of the page, he had hastily written in Italian:

'_Antonio's Christmas gift.'_

A small cry came from the next room and Lovino stopped to listen if Antonio would settle and go back to sleep. He stood, however, when Antonio continued to sob and lifted the child into his arms when he reached the couch. Antonio's cries softened into mere whimpers before his damp eyes noticed Lovino was the one holding him with the Italian's face already being committed to memory.

He knew he was safe now that he was in his father's arms.

He didn't feel so lonely and so afraid; he didn't have to worry anymore.

His father would protect him from anything that was going to hurt him.

Yes… this man was his father.

There was no doubt- he didn't smell of milk and his voice was much deeper than a mother's.

Antonio grabbed a fistful of Lovino's shirt and his eyes fluttered shut, falling asleep the rhythmic beat of the Italian's heart for he found comfort in it. Lovino ran his thumb across the infant's tear dampened face to wipe away the excess liquid.

Lovino had a thoughtful look upon his face. Never in all his life would he picture himself as a father at the age of twenty-four and to the man he loved no less. But what could he have been thinking? He was trying to give Antonio away when he needed him; a wave of guilt washed over the Italian as he sighed and just stared at Antonio's peaceful face.

He wasn't thinking, was he?

Even if the Spaniard was much, much younger… it was still him regardless of all other factors.

Antonio, as if sensing the Italian's troubled thoughts, nuzzled his face further into Lovino's shirt and a smile appeared. A contemplating look on his face, Lovino scrutinized Antonio, realizing just how small and vulnerable the infant truly was.

Antonio was unable to take care of himself now and it was up to Lovino to welcome that task with open arms and hopefully raise Antonio right.

_This is a huge responsibility, _Lovino thought with an audible sigh. _What in the world have I gotten myself into this time?_

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><p>Lovino placed Antonio into the warm bath water that filled the sink less than halfway, holding the baby in the exact position Feliciano told him to. He subconsciously rolled his eyes. He hated having to rely on his younger brother for instructions. His pride was taking a huge blow but he still heeded Feliciano's orders- the younger Italian did have more knowledge of this than he did (even if he would never openly admit it).<p>

But he did have to admit when Feliciano brought up the subject of bathing and changing the soiled diapers of this new Antonio, Lovino was far more than reluctant. In fact, he was downright against it.

_It'd be so weird, _he had thought. _Not everyone- no, _no one- _as far as I know-_ _gives their lover a bath. Well, unless he's a baby but that's beside the point!_

But he had forgotten that the child before him was not the same Antonio- at least not mentally. Who would be able to guess if Antonio would grow up and be the same person with Lovino raising him? After it took an hour of convincing from Feliciano via phone, Lovino gave in and tore down his inhibitions.

Antonio splashed at the water with a dimpled hand while the other clung tightly onto Lovino's finger thus pulling Lovino back into the present. He squealed happily as the water rippled and continued to pat at it. This brought a smile to Lovino's face and Antonio's emerald eyes seemed to have caught it for another grin brightened his features.

Lovino grabbed the wash cloth and gently cleaned the infant while Antonio had a curious look upon his face. He stared at Lovino intently and the Italian gazed back as he continued washing the child.

"Pah… beh…" Antonio smiled, wrapping his other tiny hand around another one of Lovino's fingers.

"You haven't changed," Lovino shook his head in amusement and almost sounded relieved by seeing that the baby still retained some of the older Spaniard's natural excitement. "You're still the same happy-go-lucky idiot I fell in love with."

"Mah!" Antonio grinned as if he was agreeing.

"At least you're not denying it," Lovino chuckled, unable to keep his 'tough-guy' demeanor around the infant any longer.

He removed the plug from the drain and quickly wrapped the towel around Antonio's tiny form to keep him from shivering. Going to the couch, Antonio was set down and dried thoroughly and Lovino applied baby lotion to the child's body. Once dressing Antonio, Lovino scooped up the child into his arms and both rested on the Italian's large bed.

The duo fell asleep almost instantly with Antonio nestled in Lovino's arms that were protectively holding him, fitting like two pieces of the perfect broken puzzle. As the moonlight pooled into the dim house, the shining tomatoes that were ready to be harvested were soon forgotten.

* * *

><p>Antonio's eyes flittered open and was met with darkness. Streams of light were peeking through the curtains but that wasn't enough to dispel the fear bubbling inside his tiny body. His eyes began to water, dangerously threatening to spill over his cheeks.<p>

Where was his father?

Why did his father leave? It was so cold and lonely without him.

He was alone!

Where was his daddy?

With his only asset being his instincts, Antonio let out a long wail that came from his aching heart and ever-growing dread. What was only a few seconds seemed like an eternity when he was finally brought into a pair of strong arms and lifted. He continued to cry but once he heard the assuring voice of his father trying to soothe him, he quieted as his father pats his back affectionately and rhythmically.

He buried his face in his father's shirt, dampening it with his tears and inhaling the scent he had begun to recognize and distinguish as the man that took care of him. He held onto the cloth for dear life, fearing that his father would disappear within the darkness again.

"It's all right, Antonio. It'll be fine- I'm here," Lovino said softly so as not to alarm the infant further.

A loud clap of thunder echoed powerfully outside and lightning illuminated the room, making the shadows dance on the wall. Antonio cried out at the sound of the overbearing bellow. He shrank in Lovino's arms, hiding his face in the crook of the Italian's neck.

Why was everything so scary?

He didn't understand!

What the monster outside his house doing? It roared and made him feel so small.

He didn't like it!

Why wasn't his father making it go away?

"Shh, it's all right," Lovino whispered after the second roll of thunder was heard and Antonio curled into his arms tighter. "It's only thunder. It won't hurt you."

Although Antonio could not understand what was being said, it brought him absolute solace to hear his father's voice so close to him. It nearly overpowered the loud snarls of the monster outside. The close voice made him feel safe.

Reaching over, Lovino turned on the bedside lamp and the room glowed low orange. Catching sight of the warm glimmer, Antonio calmed considerably. He sniffled lightly and his grip on his father's clothing loosened greatly. Antonio touched his father's face without lifting his head.

Lovino ran his fingers through Antonio's brunette curls of hair to keep the baby calm as the thunder growled again and rain pelted the house heavily. Said child remained in that relaxed state, save for the few times he tensed at the thunder.

The Italian stepped out of bed and cradled Antonio gently, humming a lullaby his and Feliciano's grandfather sang to them as children. This notion caused Antonio's beautiful green eyes to slowly close, tuning out the sounds of Mother Nature and concentrating on his father's voice.

"…be not afraid… though thunder explodes and lightning flash… illuminates your tear-stained face… I am here tonight…"

The tears soon stopped flowing and Antonio's peaceful breathing could be heard.

Lovino sighed in relief.

He had made it.

With the days having gone by as quickly as they came, Lovino learned ways to console the infant when he was scared or upset. That had been the fairly easy part (much to his surprise). Waking up in the middle of the night to feed Antonio and calm him was another thing. The Italian enjoyed his sleep and desperately needed it and the deprivation was starting to get to him.

But Lovino always found that he could never be mad at Antonio- especially in this state or even when the Spaniard was a grown man. He was as innocent as can be. He was just a lamb taking its first steps while Lovino was guiding him along. Taking Antonio's hand into his own, he compared the sizes, remembering how much larger the Spaniard's was to his.

And now, Antonio's fit entirely in the palm of his hand. Inspecting the hand tenderly so as not to disturb the sleeping infant, ran his fingers over the baby's soft skin which was opposite to the grown Antonio's slightly calloused hands. With the very tip of his finger, Lovino traced the smaller palm, having already memorized it.

Antonio's hand suddenly clasped around his finger but still remained asleep. Not knowing what else to do, Lovino placed themselves back onto the bed and turned off the light, laying down with Antonio as close as possible.

* * *

><p>The birds chirped merrily outside the window, singing in harmony with the soft piano music playing from a certain Italian's house. Lovino had been working on the musical piece since after the crack of dawn, unable to sleep or think about what he was doing.<p>

The notes flowed across the page as a sorrowful dance as Lovino poured his heart and soul into it, with this being his only release. There was nothing else he really excelled in; every instrument his grandfather had pushed at him he had failed miserably and came in second place to Feliciano, much to his dismay and his grandfather's delight.

Their grandfather had clearly favored Feliciano over him but Lovino had learned to ignore it.

Being born into a family that had artistic pursuits and outrivaled all those that went against them put mounds of stress on Lovino as a child. He couldn't draw, write, or sing (he wasn't tone deaf but Feliciano once again surpassed him in that).

The piano was the only thing he could escape to. Hating it at first because of his stingy Austrian instructor that seemed to have a stick up his butt every day, it had grown on him with each lesson and each passing year. Antonio was in a peaceful slumber in the next room, not being disturbed by the sounds reverberating throughout the house.

Lovino didn't know how long he had been working on the piece when Antonio began crying for his presence and for food. Testing the formula on his wrist, Lovino placed the bottle to Antonio's eager lips that quickly began to wolf it down. All during this, Antonio gazed at the man he knew as his father and had trusted from day one. He fisted a piece of Lovino's shirt, studying his father with intense emerald orbs.

"I wonder if you'll still be the same when you get older," Lovino thought aloud. "You'll probably still love tomatoes. I mean, why wouldn't you?"

Antonio released the bottle from his lips after having his fill and gurgled lightly. Wiping the excess formula from the baby's mouth with a rag, Lovino waited for a final burp. The Italian took the infant to the piano then, intent on getting some more work done. Antonio stared at the piano curiously, trying so hard to figure out what the enormous contraption was.

He watched his father's fingers glide across the keys like graceful swans, mesmerized by the actions as he sat back against Lovino's torso. His eyes never did move away, focusing on the music that brought a smile to his face and a small giggle to escape.

His father stopped playing then, seemingly shocked at his reaction.

Lovino blinked a few times before playing again, waiting to see if Antonio would laugh again. And sure enough, the infant did. He giggled and reached out for the piano keys but Lovino kept him in place. Still wary of the child, Lovino continued playing, enjoying the sounds of Antonio's happiness.

"This is your Christmas gift," Lovino admitted, knowing the child didn't understand him at all. "I just haven't wanted to finish it. But maybe I will… even if it is for you."

"Bah!" was Antonio's joyful reply.

"You used to love hearing me play the piano. You'd ask me nearly every day. I don't know why I listened and did it. I guess I liked to see you happy…" Lovino trailed off.

Antonio kept trying to tap at the keys when Lovino heard his front door open. The Italian tensed and turned around, listening for the intruder.

"_Fratello! _Are you here?_" _a loud voice rang out.

Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, "Feliciano, what the hell have I told you about barging into my house whenever the fuck you want to?"

"Aw, _fratello, _there's no need to be so mean! Besides, what have I told you about cursing in front of the baby? It's bad!" Feliciano entered what he called the piano room.

"It's not like he hasn't heard them before," Lovino shrugged.

"But still," Feliciano took the infant into his arms, showering Antonio with kisses.

Said child giggled, grabbing fistfuls of the younger Italian's hair.

"Is the potato-bastard here with you?" Lovino nearly demanded.

"No, he's helping his brother with something- I don't really know what they're up to," Feliciano replied, glancing at the other in the room every few seconds.

"Good," Lovino nodded, pressing random keys.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Feliciano's eyes were brought to Lovino's fingers as they distractedly played what Feliciano immediately recognized as C minor.

"So I did hear music on my way here," Feliciano smiled, sitting beside Lovino. "I could've sworn it was my mind playing tricks on me."

"Yeah… what of it?" Lovino's cheeks were brushed a light pink.

"Nothing, I just thought you were done playing for good," Feliciano's tone became cheerless. "You had said so yourself, after all."

"I know I did- I needed something to do, that's all. Besides, you know Grandpa or Antonio wouldn't let me quit playing so I decided to start again. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. I'm glad to see that you're playing again. You're happier," Feliciano said, surprising his brother yet another time. "And as of now, with Antonio back, you're happier than you have been in a long time."

Lovino's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Was Feliciano right?

Was he happier now that Antonio had returned back into his life despite the fact that he had ordered the Spaniard to leave only five months ago? What was the meaning of that? What was his reasoning behind such a stupid decision?

"I am?" Lovino mistakenly asked the question verbally.

"Yes," Feliciano nodded. "I can tell you're very happy. Having Antonio back around changed you, _fratello- _just as he did when you two first met. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Especially if that change was in the form of a tiny baby he found in his tomato garden months ago.

* * *

><p><strong>Can anyone guess who the "stingy Austrian" is? Of course you can, you're all smart people! And for those who might be wondering why Lovino would play the piano over all instruments (if the Italian would even play an instrument at all), I chose it because I think it fits the story well and since the guitar is Antonio's thing, Lovino needed to play something so the piano it was. I also could (for some reason) see Lovino playing the piano- as weird as that sounds. This is just for clarification on those who were wondering.<strong>

**This is the song Lovino was playing in his memory:**

**watch?v=yvM8GYj3u4Q&list=PL730EE614F025A7D1&index=52&feature=plpp_video**

**And this is the song that is Antonio's Christmas gift:**

**watch?v=RImCkWLiPIE&list=PL730EE614F025A7D1&index=49&feature=plpp_video**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about that guys! I suppose I wasn't paying attention. I was up late last night XD Sorry that this is so short and I haven't updated in a while. But this sets some things off. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Thanks to those who have read, reviewed, favorited/alerted, all that jazz! It's much appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**Warnings: Lovino's mouth, memories of Spamano, etc.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

With tiny hands clasped around his fingers, Lovino aided Antonio in standing for the first time. The child clung on tightly, struggling to steady himself on his short and wobbly legs. He took a daring step forward, becoming anxious when he felt as if he was going to fall forward. The fear disappeared as soon as he sensed his father's reassuring presence behind him.

He shakily continued, his confidence growing and nearly propelled himself out of Lovino's secure hold. Antonio had caught sight of the piano and made his way towards it. It was so big but it brought him no alarm. His father could make pretty sounds come from it. He loved hearing it. He wanted to hear his father play!

Lovino couldn't help the smile that crossed his features as he let Antonio lead the way. With each passing day, Lovino felt his love for the growing child flourish into something different… something he had never experienced before. He couldn't quite explain it. The Italian then noticed that they were heading towards the piano and Lovino pulled the child up into his arms, realizing what Antonio wanted.

"Not today," Lovino took Antonio from the large instrument and placed him back down on the floor. "We have a busy day and knowing you, you won't want me to stop. Feliciano and the potato-bastard are coming over so I need to get started on lunch."

The Italian rested Antonio on the floor and the infant grabbed one of the toys immediately and began to chew on it.

Lovino sighed, amused, "What am I going to do with you, Antonio?"

The infant looked up once he noticed that he was being spoken to.

There it was again.

That sound.

Antonio.

His father always called him that when he was speaking to him.

_He _was Antonio.

That was his name.

Antonio gurgled and another string of saliva slipped down his chin and onto the floor. Lovino sighed and wiped it away with a small rag. The Italian then retreated to the kitchen to at least get a head start on making the pasta. He knew Feliciano would want nothing else.

"Pah… beh…" Antonio cooed as he watched his father leave.

Was he going to get him food? Food always came out of that room and Antonio was usually there to see what was going on. So why wasn't he being taken now? He wanted to be with his father! His father made him happy!

"Pa… pa… Papa! Papa!" Antonio called, satisfied when he saw his father's head peek around the corner. His arms reached out, asking to be held. "Papa! Papa!"

Lovino sauntered towards the infant, shock upon his handsome features. Did Antonio just…? Lovino didn't want to believe it. In fact, it made his heart pound inside his chest heavier than the thunderstorms that raged outside from time to time.

It had only been a month and the child already saw him as his father.

Antonio had always been a person whose trust was gained rather quickly. But Lovino felt that this wasn't the case. Could their bond have carried on beyond the grave and into Antonio's second life?

The Italian gave it the benefit of the doubt.

But just hearing the word coming from the child's mouth… frightened Lovino. He thought he was ready. He knew Antonio would be speaking sooner or later. However, verbally being recognized as a parent by a child he had found only a month ago sent his mind into a wild reel.

He should've been ready for this! He… he knew that he had basically become Antonio's parent but…

It still scared him.

Before he knew it, he was out the door and down the street with a violent and greatly confused heart.

Antonio blinked a few times, bewildered by what just happened. His father… had left. He was gone! Antonio cried out for him repeatedly, his hopes soaring high that the Italian would return- that this was all some sort of game. But his father never came back.

The child let out a long and desperate wail and tears of anguish ran down his cheeks. They glistened in the sunlight, emphasizing Antonio's wretched pleas. Trying to follow the Italian, Antonio made an attempt to inch forward, only to fall without making progress.

His cries became whimpers, echoing each piece of his broken heart.

And even though he was miles away from the house, Lovino could still hear Antonio's screams.

* * *

><p>"<em>Fratello?" <em>Feliciano called, finding it odd that the front door was left ajar. _"Fratello, _where are you? Are you home?" he readjusted the child on his hip.

The toddler clung onto her adoptive parent tightly, hiding her face in her strawberry blonde curls and peeking out through strands with stunning blue eyes. Her tiny hand grabbed a piece of Feliciano's shirt and she made a small noise, indicating her anxiety of being in a new place.

"Hmm, I wonder where he is, Sienna," Feliciano said to the child even though he knew she wouldn't answer him. "Do you think he went to the store to grab some stuff for lunch?"

"It's a possibility," Ludwig mused.

"But he wouldn't leave the door open…" Feliciano was about to enter the house but was stopped by Ludwig's hand being placed on his shoulder.

"I'll go in first. Stay here," the German said, stepping inside. Glancing around and not noticing much of anything out of the ordinary, he motioned Feliciano to come in.

"Where is he?" Feliciano questioned.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Ludwig answered.

"What do you think, Sienna?" Feliciano glanced at his daughter.

The girl was quiet and buried her head in the crook of the Italian's neck. Catching an odd scent, Feliciano sprinted to the kitchen after placing Sienna in Ludwig's arms, removing the boiling pot of noodles from the stove.

"Ouch!" he hissed. "Hot!"

After turning off the stove, Feliciano arrived back at the living room with a look of muddled determination, "This is ridiculous. Where is he?"

"Wait, shh, Feliciano- listen. Do you hear that?" Ludwig asked.

Small snivels became clearer as the Italian did as he was told.

"It's coming from the piano room," Feliciano followed the sounds, thoroughly confused.

Entering said room, Antonio lifted up his head to see who had come and placed it back down when he realized it was not his father. Feliciano lifted the baby Spaniard into his arms, bringing as much comfort as he could. And Antonio held onto the younger Italian, inhaling the familiar yet foreign scent of tomatoes and spices.

But he wanted his father who smelled of tomatoes and the garden soil.

He wanted his daddy.

Why wouldn't he come back?

Why did he leave him?


	5. Chapter 5

**Ciao~! Another chapter! Yes, it's short again but I didn't want Lovino's acceptance issues to take up the entire story line. I want to focus on his parenting from here on out. Thanks for all those supporting this story! It is much appreciated! :D**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

Lovino wasn't aware of where he was or how long he'd been running. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from that house as possible. His heart still thundered in his chest painfully and his legs cried for mercy. He couldn't stop, however—not until the distraught expression and forlorn cries of Antonio ceased to haunt his mind.

Those sad and innocent emerald eyes flashed in his mind, illustrating more than just desperation and confusion but also the love he harbored for the man he had come to know as his father.

Skidding to an abrupt stop, Lovino leaned against a nearby tree in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs seemed to sigh in relief as he shakily sank to the grass. And while sitting there, alone in the north outskirts of town with nothing but the whispering trees to accompany him, Lovino wept silently.

He didn't want anyone to see him cry.

He'd rather come to terms with how cowardly and selfish he was acting on his own.

His shoulders heaved up and down heavily and frantically, releasing a tiny bit of sorrow each time. Was this how Antonio was feeling now? Frightened—terrified even? He could only imagine so.

What in the world was he thinking?

He abandoned his friend, the love of his life… his son.

Son.

That was what Antonio was to him now, right? They were father and son—even the infant had thought so. The newfound warmth Antonio brought him each and every day… it was fatherly love. He had without a doubt grown to see the Spaniard as his own child.

But why was it so hard for him to wrap his head around the concept?

It shouldn't have been. Antonio had been like this for over a month now and he was still expecting on some days to wake up and find the Spaniard a grown man and that this was all some sort of elaborate dream or perhaps a lesson in itself. If he hadn't told Antonio to leave that night, none of this would be happening.

None of it.

No, he didn't regret finding Antonio in the tomato garden that one bright spring morning. He found his life has been happier _because _of that moment. He just was afraid to think of the future. He knew that Antonio would grow and fall in love again… with someone other than him.

The Spaniard's words of love and affection would wilt just as a neglected flower and the only memoir of them ever existing would be Lovino's wounded heart. Of course, he wouldn't deny the child the opportunity to love another. He just wanted it to be him.

And knowing this put Lovino's heart through a saw mill.

While drowning in his thoughts, the shrill tone of his cell phone sent him back to the present, and he sighed at the name on the caller I.D. but he went and answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"_Get over here. Now."_

That was all Feliciano said (and all that needed to be said) before hanging up angrily; finding there was no point in avoiding the inevitable, Lovino stood and made his way back home where he would probably never be able to look at Antonio the same way ever again.

* * *

><p>Upon entering his home, Lovino expected to see Feliciano waiting for him at the door and be absolutely livid. However, the younger Italian was sitting on the couch, soothing a still whimpering Antonio who had a tight grip on his clothing. But the infant appeared to be sleeping. Ludwig was on the other couch and the child sitting in his lap was who Lovino assumed to be the child they adopted not too long ago.<p>

He shut the door silently and stood amidst the duo, waiting for either of them to speak. After he was sure Antonio was in a deep slumber, Feliciano places him down and covered the child with his tomato imprinted blanket. Feliciano makes his way towards Lovino afterwards and just simply stares at his older brother.

_Smack!_

Lovino's head was suddenly jerked to the right and a prominent blazing hand mark appeared on his cheek. He made no move afterwards though and Ludwig placed his hand on Feliciano's shoulder to calm him. With eyes like amber fire, Feliciano sent a death glare to Lovino that even had his German lover on edge.

It was then that Sienna reached for her other parent and Feliciano gladly took her into his arms but still spoke in the most menacing of tones, "How dare you leave him all alone? He needed you and you ran out on him. We made a promise, didn't we?"

Lovino could bring himself to speak past the large lump in his throat.

"Look at me when I am talking to you!" Feliciano hissed and his brother's emerald orbs made contact with his own. "What is your problem, Lovino?"

The older Italian nearly cringed that his first and not to mention full name was escaping his brother's lips. He must've been angry beyond belief.

"There is no problem," Lovino replied.

"Don't you lie to me, Lovino! You left Antonio alone! And don't forget that you had a pot of cooking noodles on the stove! This whole place could've caught on fire and you wouldn't have even known it!"

"_Shut up!" _Lovino yelled, the remorse eating at him.

Antonio whimpered faintly from where he was but did not wake.

"I know what I did was wrong, okay? I fucking know! The last thing I need is you pointing it out to me! I'm not perfect like you are, Feliciano! I make mistakes!" Lovino continued and the annoying tears started collecting again.

His brother's outburst nonetheless shocked Feliciano into silence.

"I was scared, all right? I admit it, I was scared. Antonio called me 'dad' and I ran off," the older Italian was much calmer now. "I didn't know what else to do so I ran. I'm not ready to be a father! More importantly, I _can't _be one!"

"_Fratello, _you've been his father ever since you found him. You just haven't realized it. I know it's hard to be a father when our own walked out on us when we were so young. And as far as I've seen, you're doing an excellent job," Feliciano's voice had a much more benign tone to it.

"I can't do this, Feli. Antonio deserves so much better and I'm… not the one to fucking do it."

"He wants no one but you. He'll be even more heartbroken if you just disappeared from his life. Trust me, _fratello. _Remember how upset we were when Father left?" Feliciano reasoned and continued when Lovino nodded. "Don't put him through that. He loves you too much."

"Feli, I…" Lovino trailed off, unable to find the words.

Antonio stirred again and it was unbeknownst to the adults. Had he heard correctly? Was that his father's voice? His father was here? Turning his head, he caught sight of the man and was flooded with joy.

"Pa… pa… Papa! Papa!" he reached out to the Italian and large tears ran down his cheeks. "Papa! Papa!"

The Italian looked at the infant crying out to him but made no move to go towards the infant. Antonio's cries increased in intensity and Lovino was no longer able to take it. He picked up Antonio and held the baby close, not caring how odd it must've looked to Feliciano or Ludwig that he was being the father he should've been from the get-go.

Antonio had his arms wrapped around Lovino's neck in a strong embrace. His father was really here! He had come back! Living with that fact, Antonio fell back to sleep, reveling in his father's smell of tomatoes and garden soil. Feliciano smiled and placed his hand on the baby's back.

"You see, _fratello? _He loves you and I know you love him. It'll be hard, yes, but in the end it'll all be worth it," the younger Italian said.

Lovino nodded and placed a kiss to Antonio's head full of curly brunette locks.

And this caused Antonio to smile in content.


	6. Side Story: Pitter Patter

**Hey everyone. I know this is ridiculously and incredibly short but I am feeling under the weather so my inspiration is a little dead as of today. So for the time being, I am providing this little side story. Until I get to feeling up to par again, I will more than likely be updating with short little side stories of some father-son moments with Lovino and Baby Toni. This is okay, yes? I hope so.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this mini-installment of Midnight Dancers. The chapters will get longer, promise- unless I am sick forever.**

**Oh! I almost forgot! I am currently accepting ideas for this story that you want to see incorporated into the plot line. **

**Would you like it to be its own little side story or part of the major plot I have brewing in my head? **

**Leave a review if you want an idea in the story and I will use it : )**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**Warnings: Lovino's mouth**

* * *

><p><strong>Side Story<strong>

Feliciano smiled as Antonio held onto his fingers with his still tiny hands and wobbled to a standing position. The Italian glanced up at his brother, who was not even a foot away nodded at him. Slipping his fingers out of Antonio's grasp, Feliciano held the child around the waist before releasing Antonio and ready to catch him lest he fall. The nine month old was easily standing albeit with uncertainty. He watched as Lovino held out his arms to welcome Antonio. Upon seeing his father's waiting embrace, Antonio almost lunged forward but took slow and cautious steps.

His still strengthening legs shakily tried to keep him steady. His eyes were trained on his father's content face and giggled with every few steps he took and realized with more steps, the closer he got to his dad. This made his expression become as bright as the golden sun itself. Antonio's emerald eyes danced when he reached his father's arms and was pulled into a congratulating hug.

"_Buon lavoro. Questo è il mio ragazzo," _Lovino smiled and kissed Antonio's head lightly.

"Papa!" Antonio grinned, grabbing handfuls of the Italian's soft hair.

Lovino chuckled, smiling at his son.

"_Grande lavoro, _Antonio! You are getting so big so fast! And so cute! Pretty soon you'll have all the ladies at your feet!" Feliciano ruffled Antonio's brunette curls of hair.

The infant giggled happily and didn't seem to notice the subtle death glare Lovino was throwing at the younger Italian. Lovino set him down to play with Sienna and sat on the couch, watching the duo getting along rather well. What Feliciano had said lit the flame that had long since been doused. No, it wasn't jealousy. It was acceptance-realization. Antonio wasn't going to love him anymore. He was going to love another person, be it man or woman.

"What's wrong, _fratello?" _Feliciano wondered.

"Nothing," was Lovino's regrettably curt reply.

"Are you upset because Antonio's growing up so fast? Don't worry, it'll get better as time passes though you never really get over the sad feeling though," Feliciano smiled with his explanation because he knew exactly what Lovino was going through. Sienna was growing bigger and bigger every day and it seemed just like yesterday that he and Ludwig had brought her home.

"No, it's not that," Lovino shook his head. "It's complicated. I don't want to talk about it."

"But-,"

"No, Feli. I don't want to talk about it," Lovino shot his brother a warning glance.

Sienna then hurried over to the younger of the two, patting her hand on his leg to get his attention, "Mama, I'm hungry."

She brushed some of her auburn curls away from her eyes and looked up at her parent with striking electric blue eyes that rivaled those of a certain German's. She might as well have been conceived from the two of them—there were little to no differences in the small family of three. Lovino laughed quietly to himself that Feliciano was being called the woman of the relationship but his brother didn't seem to mind at all. After all, he was content with whatever Sienna had decided to call him.

"I swear, I will _never _get over that," Lovino said in between his fits of laughter.

"I don't have a problem with it. She just called me that one day—I'm not going to make her change it any time soon," Feliciano smiled.

"I know, I know. It still makes me laugh though. Hell, it's fucking amusing," Lovino smirked.

Feliciano immediately covered Sienna's ears, earning a befuddled look from his daughter, "Lovi, don't curse around the children! They're too young to be hearing that kind of language!"

"What the hell ever," Lovino grumbled.

"_Fratello, _do you have anything to make pasta with?" Feliciano questioned, getting to his feet and seemingly missed the comment his brother made.

"Don't I always? Go ahead," Lovino gestured towards the kitchen.

Without his notice, Antonio had been holding onto the edge of the coffee table and made his way over to Lovino, wobbling across the short distance between him and his father and successfully reached the couch. He stretched out his arms, indicating he wanted to be held which Lovino obliged.

"Papa! Mah!" Antonio cooed as if he was trying to form words.

"What is it, Toni?" Lovino asked, knowing full well the child couldn't answer.

"Bah… beh… pah…" Antonio traced his hands along Lovino's face, memorizing the structure of the Italian's features. He liked looking into his father's eyes—they were so green and pretty. Unbeknownst to him, there was a spark of recognition that ignited within Antonio's mind. Those eyes were what reassured him during the times he was scared. He felt as if he had seen those eyes for a very long time.

He loved his dad with all of his heart.

Nothing could ever break a bond as strong as theirs.

"Yeah," Lovino smiled with sincerity. "I love you, too, tomato-jerk."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a review telling me your ideas (if you have any). I would love to hear them :D<strong>

**Translations (no, I do not use Google Translate; I use the translator on Dictionary . com but feel free to correct me if I messed up):**

_Buon lavoro. Questo è il mio ragazzo- _Good job. That's my boy.

_Grande lavoro- _Great job

**See you all next time~**


	7. Chapter 6

**Okay, so I figured out what's wrong with me: I have a glorious sinus infection. It's so much fun. Having constant headaches and lack of oxygen due to congestion is the best way to spend the day when you're trying to figure out what the hell to do for the next chapter. All right, soap box over and done with. So let's start this over:**

**Hey guys! I'm feeling a bit better after being perscribed some antibiotics and so I'm getting back to this story again. Sorry about the last one. I just was not up to writing at all but I felt bad about not updating in so long. Anyway, this is an official chapter and we delve a bit more into the deeper (darker) plot I have developing for this story.**

**Thank you to all those who submitted ideas! They _will _be used at some point or another but rest assured, your ideas will not be wasted. I appreciate all who have stuck with this story! It truly means so much!**

**The main part of this chapter was written due to one of the many great ideas of kirin-saga's.**

**(long author's note is long...)**

**Now, onto the show!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language. Oh and Lovino may seem a bit OOC but what can I say? He's a dad now.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Lovino, lounging on the couch with Antonio sleeping peacefully on his chest, flipped through the channels with a bored expression. Out of the one-hundred something odd channels, there had to be _something _on! But much to his dismay, there wasn't. Turning off the television, Lovino placed the remote down on the floor beside the couch and closed his eyes. His hand rested itself on little Toni's back, rubbing small circles that ended up sending him onto the brink of sleep. With Antonio fed and bathed and falling asleep only moments ago, Lovino didn't pass the chance to catch up on the hour he might've lost during the night tending to Antonio.

Just as sleep was about to embrace him, a knock at the door drove it away.

"Who the hell is here?" he grumbled to himself, slowly sitting up so as not to startle Antonio.

The Italian gently set his son down on the couch and made his way to the door silently. He opened the door and froze almost immediately.

"Yo, Lovi! How ya been?" a certain Prussian grinned.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Lovino shouted with much restraint, heeding the fact that Antonio was still sleeping.

"We came to check on you, _mon ami—_to see how you were holding up. We would've come by sooner but we had difficulties arranging a visit," Francis's voice was much calmer than that of his companion's.

"Well, I'm just fine," Lovino said. "Why do you ask?"

Gilbert blinked a few times, processing what had just been said, "Seriously, man? You haven't become _that _cold-hearted in such a short amount of time, have you?"

Oh. They were talking about Antonio—of course they were talking about Antonio. He mentally smacked himself. Lovino had gotten so used to the Spaniard being there (as a baby or not) he had forgotten all about the car accident taking him from this life in the first place. Well, he didn't entirely forget but the memories had been subdued to a great extent. Sighing, the Italian realized he wasn't the only one still inwardly grieving.

"You're not going to leave us standing out here, are ya, man? That's not very hospitable of you," Gilbert grinned.

"Fuck off," Lovino glared. "I'll be surprised if you even know the meaning of the word 'hospitable.'"

"Lovino, _mon ami, _be nice. We came all this way to see you," Francis smiled.

"You can't come in," Lovino growled.

"Are you hiding something?"

"No, but—"

A loud wail suddenly resonated throughout the entire house, causing Lovino to nearly sprint to Antonio's side. The puzzled duo remained at the door and followed the Italian moments later after the crying had stopped. They paused upon seeing Lovino comforting an infant.

"Shh, it's okay. Daddy's here," Lovino murmured as Antonio grabbed onto his finger while sniffling quietly.

"Papa… Papa…" Antonio moaned with sorrow, burying his face in the Italian's shirt.

"It's all right—I'm here," Lovino said softly in Italian.

Antonio's whimpers died down when he fell back to sleep but was determined not to let his father leave again. Brushing his hand through Antonio's thick curls, Lovino knew he must've looked very odd to Francis and Gilbert but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Whoa, Lovino! You went and knocked up some girl—!"

"Hush, Gilbert. You'll wake up the baby," Francis whispered.

"What? Don't tell me to hush! He went knocked up—" Gilbert began only to be interrupted by a certain Frenchman again.

"Shush! Can't you see Lovino is putting him to sleep? And I don't think you want to be on the receiving end of Lovino's wrath if you wake him. I have as many questions as you do but we have to be patient and wait," Francis reasoned.

"You've been hanging out with the tea-lover, haven't you?" Gilbert figured that was the only way his friend was acting so logical in a time like this. The Prussian then crossed his arms with an impatient huff when he didn't get an answer and only when Lovino sat down did they do the same.

"I don't blame you if you have tons of questions but I want them to be kept at a minimum and don't talk too loud. I'll fucking kill you if you wake him up—he hasn't had a nap today and I don't want him cranky," Lovino explained simply.

"Me first because I'm awesome. Who—"

"Whose child is that?" Francis questioned, once again cutting his friend off mid-sentence.

"Mine," Lovino replied, not needing to look at them to picture their surprised expressions.

"_Your _son?" Gilbert's eyes widened.

"Yeah. You sound surprised," Lovino brushed Antonio's bangs from his round face. He was talking as if he really had Antonio from the very beginning—as if they were actually related by blood.

"Of course I am. I mean, it's been almost a year since Antonio passed away. I've heard of seeking comfort but don't you think it's still a bit soon? Who'd you knock up, man?" Gilbert replied, speaking lowly as the subject of Antonio's death was still a sensitive wound.

Lovino felt his brow twitch at the vulgar question, "I didn't knock up anyone, _bastardo. _Someone left him in our tomato garden."

The Italian figured that it wasn't the best time to tell them that said baby was their Spanish friend that they had known for so many years. They were rebounding from the accident just as he was.

But he had Antonio back. He got to see that glorious smile and those twinkling eyes every day.

They had Antonio back, too, of course (not that they knew).

"Really?" Francis's eyebrows raised in honest shock and sympathy. "Someone left him there? _Mon dieu, _poor boy. However, by the looks of it, you seem to have taken very good care of him. How old is he?"

"Nine months," Lovino answered.

"He's a big kid," Gilbert commented, seeming to be at a loss of words for once in his young life.

Lovino nodded in agreement, having really nothing to say.

Wanting to get a better look at the baby, Gilbert leaned over slightly. Francis, on the other hand, was watching Lovino's every move. The Italian was less grumpy and had a sparkle to his eyes that was only there when Antonio was alive. Was it possible that this child had brought back Lovino's happiness? Francis didn't doubt it—nor did he doubt that the child was beginning to look eerily familiar to him…

"So what's the little guy's name?" Gilbert wondered, now sitting beside Lovino and Francis was detecting the protective aura practically rippling from the Italian in strong waves.

But Lovino was silent, giving the duo wary (or were they anxious?) glances.

"His name is Antonio," Lovino replied followed by a heavy sigh.

"You named him after…?" Francis trailed off.

"Yeah."

"Well, he _does _kind of look like Toni," Gilbert hummed in thought. "Actually, he looks a lot like Toni!"

"That he does. How odd," Francis agreed.

Upon hearing a new voice so up close, Antonio stirred from his pleasant dream and was happy to be staring at a well-known face. He caught a new face in his periphery though and turned towards it. A man with platinum blonde hair and dark russet eyes that almost looked red in the light was staring at him.

Another man was here too. His hair was a long and wavy blonde (it was also very tempting to grab) and his eyes were an ocean blue. He felt alarmed being in the presence of newcomers but a sense of peace washed over him at the same time. If his dad wasn't afraid, he shouldn't be either. And as long as his dad was here, everything would be just fine.

"Great job, you jerk, you woke him up," Lovino scolded.

"He doesn't seem cranky to me," Gilbert said matter-of-factly.

"You'll see," Lovino mumbled.

Grabbing a piece of his father's clothing to reassure himself, Antonio tried scooting out of his father's lap, indicating that he wanted to get down and play with a toy that had caught his attention. Lovino complied and set his son to the floor, watching him crawl across the carpet with ease.

"He's nine months old, _oui?" _Francis broke Lovino's train of thought, wherever said train of thought might be going.

"_Sí," _Lovino answered.

"Well you seem to be doing a fine job in parenting," Francis gave a sincere smile.

"Yo, Lovi, if you ever need someone to babysit, I can," Gilbert offered with a cheeky grin.

"Not only no, but _fuck no!" _Lovino retorted, earning himself a loud laugh from the Prussian.

"Oh, come on, Dad! Loosen up a little!" Gilbert mocked with a sly smirk.

This guaranteed a solid smack to the back of his head by the young father and Lovino made his way over to Antonio so he could sit beside him and play with his son. Francis's interest was caught by some framed photos scattered about the living room on display for all to see and he scrutinized them with inquisitive eyes.

He noticed that with each picture, not only had Antonio changed but Lovino did, too. There was a softer light in the Italian's eyes as the apparent bond between the two grew stronger and stronger and he seemed more willing to take the picture.

…was that a sincere smile Francis was seeing?

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Gilbert rubbed the sore spot on his head.

"For being an ignorant dick," Lovino replied coolly.

"You son of a—" Gilbert started but stopped himself. "You know what? Screw it, I'm too awesome to be fighting with you."

"Whatever floats you're already fucked up boat," Lovino shrugged, offering Antonio his rattle.

Gilbert's brow twitched and his russet eyes became crimson with irritation.

"You two just need to calm down," Francis sighed. "Antonio's acting more mature than you are."

"He's nine months old," both Gilbert and Lovino responded in unison which sent the duo into a bout of even further annoyance.

While Lovino had his back turned, Antonio began to wander off into the piano room with his urge to explore beginning to soar as he became more curious about the world around him. He had only been in here when his father was with him but as he grew more independent, he wanted to go in here all by himself.

When he saw the piano looming over him, he grabbed onto the leg of it and pulled himself to his feet. He wanted to get a better look at the large apparatus in front of him so he cruised along it, almost slipping a couple of times.

"Toni? Antonio!" he heard his father call and his head whipped around at the sound. He noticed the change of patterns in his father's voice. He wasn't calm—he sounded scared. Antonio plopped himself back into the seated position when his legs began to shake from lack of strength and crawled to other areas of the piano room.

The thudding of footsteps soon met his ears just as he was about to stand along the large bookshelf and he was abruptly picked up by the man with bright hair and dark eyes.

"Hey Lovi! Found him!" the man called over his shoulder.

That small bubble of fear erupted inside his stomach with the knowledge of being in the arms of a stranger. Where was his father at? He didn't leave, did he? He hoped not! Letting out a strong wail, Antonio called out for his single parent.

"Aw, man! Don't cry, please! Lovino will kill me!" Gilbert said quietly to try and calm the child.

"Oi! Potato-bastard! What're you doing to my son?" Lovino entered the room and removed him from the stranger's hold.

"I didn't do anything to him! He just started crying when I picked him up! Man, I swear, kids hate me," Gilbert grumbled the last part.

"Don't fret, _mon ami, _he just hasn't gotten used to you yet. Babies understand permanence and with Lovino being the most recurring person in his life, he feels safe with him," Francis explained to the Prussian as if he was speaking to a child.

"Don't patronize me, Frenchie," Gilbert glared.

At this, Francis had a sardonic smile, "Don't act like a child."

"You are so un-awesome!" Gilbert stormed out of the room.

* * *

><p>It was nearing dusk when the duo was finally set on leaving and heading back to their hotel for the night and Antonio had begun coming out of his shell sometime near the end of their visit.<p>

"All right, Toni, say bye to the creepy bastards," Lovino said as he stood in the doorjamb with Antonio in his arms. The insult was more so directed at Gilbert rather than Francis (he still didn't like one more than the other but it was more amusing to see Gilbert riled up).

The Spanish child waved shyly with a sliver of a smile and Francis was the only one who waved back. Gilbert was too busy dealing with a certain Italian.

"You're still not as awesome as me!" Gilbert retorted as they walked towards Francis's car.

"Stupid potato-bastard," Lovino knew the Prussian couldn't hear him but he wouldn't dare let the albino have the last say in their little dispute that had been going on since high school.

Antonio let out a long drawn out yawn and placed his head on Lovino's shoulder with eyelids growing heavier by the second.

"It is getting pretty close to your bed time, isn't it? You've got to be tired—those two bastards interrupted your nap. And that potato-bastard didn't believe me when I told him you'd be upset about that later," Lovino made his way up the stairs.

In fact, Gilbert had learned the hard way. Having a baby with iron lungs and one hell of a throwing arm made for the two worst possible combinations. Not only was Gilbert deaf from Antonio's cries due to lack of sleep, he might have a bruise from getting too close to said baby and had been whacked in the head with a sippy cup once or twice.

Of course, Lovino only had a few spare seconds to mock and laugh at the Prussian before having to tend to his child's needs.

By the time Lovino had made it to their shared room (Antonio refused to stay in the room made for him just down the hall), Antonio was already dead asleep in the Italian's arms. Lovino didn't dare another attempt—the last thing he needed was to hear his son crying the entire night. Neither of them would benefit.

So, as a result, Ludwig had helped him move the crib into his room and only when Antonio was old enough would they make the arrangements for him to start sleeping in his own room. Lovino placed the child down in the crib that was bathing right underneath the moon's soft glow and simply stared at his fallen angel for a minute or two.

Never in his entire life did he think he would be his former lover's father.

And he didn't regret the decision either.

With Antonio sound asleep, Lovino crawled into his bed, falling into slumber as soon as his head hit the soft pillow.

* * *

><p>"I wonder how <em>fratello <em>and Toni are doing. It's been a while since we last saw them," Feliciano commented in the dim light the lamp provided. He leaned against the headboard with a sigh. He didn't know why he was so worried about his brother and who had recently become his nephew.

"I'm sure they're fine," Ludwig said from the bathroom after spitting out some toothpaste residue into the porcelain sink in the attached bathroom. "Lovino's a grown man. He can take care of himself, don't worry."

"I just have a bad feeling, Ludwig. I don't know what it is but I can't seem to get rid of it," Feliciano tried ignoring the knots cluttering inside his stomach. "I think we should go visit them tomorrow. Or I will and you can stay here with Sienna."

"No, we'll all go," Ludwig turned off the light in the bathroom and slipped into the bed next to his Italian lover. "I don't mind the insults he throws at me. I've gotten used to it. I know he means well, though."

Feliciano let out a small laugh, "Yeah, I suppose after being with me so long I should expect that."

The second the couple was about to call it a night, the sound of a breaking window and their daughter's screams jolted them from any hope of descending into unconsciousness. Feliciano, being one of the fastest runners on the high school track team, was down the hall in a flash, nearly running into walls in the process with Ludwig very close behind.

Throwing his daughter's bedroom door open and turning on the light, Sienna immediately jumped into Feliciano's arms, sobbing hysterically. Mindful of the glass, Feliciano stepped lightly and sat on his daughter's small princess themed bed, comforting softly in Italian.

Ludwig trekked over to the broken window, hoping to find a cause to this.

"Watch the glass," Feliciano warned.

Ludwig peered out and into the city streets, catching just a small glimpse of movement dashing behind one of the buildings. It was definitely a man—around six foot four at the tallest, six foot even at the shortest.

"Did you see anything?" Feliciano held their frightened daughter close.

"Ja, but he's gone now," the German nodded and was about to sit himself beside his family when he noticed a small piece of paper jammed into the windowsill. Pulling it out with prestige, he scanned the paper and a bemused look danced across his features which was indeed a rare occurrence.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Feliciano questioned.

"I don't know. It's more than likely written in your language though," Ludwig handed the paper over.

Taking it, it took Feliciano reading it over ten times for him to wrap his mind around the single word that was written and that single word sent the worst possible chill down his spine.

One simple word.

_Morte._

Death.

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><p><strong>*insert evil laugh here* Surely you didn't think it'd be all fluff without purpose, right? shot. But, yes, there is a much deeper part than just simply focusing on Lovino's parenting skills (or lack thereof). I tried to simply make it that but it didn't sound appealing so I'm adding angst. **

**Gotta love classic angst /shot again.**

**So! What did you all think? Yay? Nay (is that how you spell the word)? Feedback is most welcome as are ideas!**

**As I said before, the main idea of this chapter was due to the help of kirin-saga. I just claim true ownership to the ending.**

**Thanks for reading! See you guys next time~**


	8. Chapter 7

**Gah! Stupid sinus infection won't go away! Here I am thinking I got over it and... *continues to ramble about how evil sinus infections are* I've got a horrible headache right now, so this is short but you all deserve an update. Nonetheless, thank you for all the support you guys have been giving me and more importantly, this story! It'd be in the trash if it weren't for you! So thank you! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take some aspirin.**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Feliciano felt the ground shift unsteadily beneath his feet as his body became unnervingly cold. Why was there a note with the word 'death' written on it? It was hardly a coincidence. The young Italian was quiet for several minutes, pondering the situation. It was up until Ludwig had practically given him a heart attack by placing his hand on the latter's shoulder.

"Sorry," Ludwig said, taking note of his lover's startled reaction.

"I-It's fine," Feliciano crumpled the note in haste, wanting to burn it afterwards.

"What did it say?" the German wondered.

"Nothing. It's stupid," Feliciano gave a carefree gesture. He wasn't sure why he didn't have the heart to tell his love that he was scared out of his wits… that he wanted to leave that house right there and then and never come back.

However, if someone was really after him, then they would probably go after Lovino once realizing he had fled. No! He couldn't risk it! But his daughter was important, too. He couldn't jeopardize her safety… he had to tell someone for the sake of his family.

"Feliciano?"

"Yes…?"

"What does 'morte' mean?"

"It means death," was the choked reply.

"Death?" Ludwig couldn't seem to believe his ears.

Feliciano could only nod. Knowing Ludwig, this threat was more like a promise to him and he would want to get them out of Italy for the sake of both his lover and daughter.

"We can't leave Lovino and Antonio here unaware of what's going on. If someone is after me or us, then they must know that he's my brother," Feliciano reasoned with pleading amber orbs.

"Feliciano, I-"

"_Per favore, _Ludwig. He's my brother. _Non posso lasciare loro! _I can't leave him!" Feliciano's watery eyes spilled over fresh and agonizing tears.

"Okay, okay," Ludwig wiped them away. "We'll figure something out. For now, let's try and go back to sleep." He stood then and aided Feliciano to his feet.

"Mommy, Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?" Sienna's voice still carried every ounce of fear coursing through her tiny body.

"Of course you can," Feliciano kissed her head to wish her worries away.

The girl buried her face in the crook of Feliciano's neck, feeling so much safer in the presence of her parents.

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><p>"Hey, <em>fratello," <em>Feliciano smiled when Lovino answered the door. It was a far cry from cheerful.

Lovino raised an eyebrow, sensing his brother's odd behavior, "You feeling all right?"

"Huh? Of course I am! You're so silly, Lovino," Feliciano grinned upon entering the house.

Okay, now Lovino was seriously starting to worry. First a fake smile and now using his full name? Something was _definitely _up and Lovino was going to find out even if it killed him. Well, maybe not kill him but… you get the point.

"Bah!" Antonio greeted when he saw the younger Italian.

"Hello, Toni," Feliciano smiled, kissing the infant on the nose. He then set Sienna to the floor and the girl shyly made her way to Antonio.

She sat directly in front of the baby, picking up one of his toys and shaking it. She imagined the colorful beads inside the tomato rattle scrambling around. Seeing that Sienna was playing with one of his toys, Antonio stood himself up with assistance from the coffee table, giggling lightly as if it was some kind of game.

Sienna continued to shake the rattle and Antonio grew more determined to reach her and retrieve it.

"Is everything okay at home?" Lovino asked. "You've stopped coming by. It's that stupid potato-bastard's fault, isn't it? He's making you stay at home."

"No, it's not Ludwig and never will be him," Feliciano had a sharp edge to his voice from all the stress he had been enduring that silenced Lovino effectively. "Last week, we got what we figured was a death threat. A piece of paper left behind said 'morte.'"

Lovino dared only to listen lest his brother grow cold again.

Antonio wobbled across the floor to complete the short distance to Sienna with a grin stretching from ear to ear. His tiny hands reached out in front of him, aiming for the toy. Feliciano was the first to take note of the infant's first independent steps and stopped talking altogether.

"What's wrong?" Lovino questioned.

"Look," Feliciano pointed behind his brother.

Turning, Lovino's forest green eyes widened and couldn't help the smile that crept along his face. His son was walking. His son was _walking! _And all by himself, no less!

Barely noticing him before the infant plopped into her lap, Sienna held out her hands to catch Antonio. Giggling happily, Antonio grabbed the rattle that now rested on the floor.

"Mommy, Uncle Lovi, Toni just walked," Sienna turned towards the adults.

Lovino knelt down, calling Antonio's name to get the infant's attention that was currently on the rattle. Hearing his name, Antonio lifted his gaze and dropped the rattle. Getting to his feet again with little assistance, he stumbled forward, delighting in the fact that his father was smiling at him.

Feliciano watched the scene with tender honey orbs.

Antonio fell into his dad's waiting embrace and grabbed handfuls of the latter's brunette hair.

"_Grande lavoro," _Lovino lightly rubbed their noses together.

"Papa!" Antonio grinned, moving his hands from Lovino's hair to the sides of his face.

Lovino couldn't help the fatherly pride and joy that burst and the way his heart soared inside of his chest. Though Antonio had formerly been his lover and he would never forget that, the Spaniard was now his son and the Italian took a newfound pride in that.

He was now Antonio Vargas.

* * *

><p>Sitting at the computer with a blank mind, Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. The document on the screen was blank and if Lovino didn't get to work, the editor would not be pleased. Only on mere accident did he become a published author almost a year ago. All he did was try to relieve on himself of his sorrow from losing Antonio and somehow playing the piano wasn't cutting it.<p>

He had written all his thoughts on paper, not really caring how it flowed or how terrible it would be. And by mistake, it had gotten in Feliciano's hands and of course he had to go and tell the world about it. Lovino had naturally attempted to bribe his brother out of it with the promise of pasta for an entire two months.

"_It's tempting," _his brother had said, _"but this'll be worth it, trust me."_

Lovino wanted to maim his younger brother on some days.

_Writer's block sucks, _Lovino grumbled in thoughts.

He closed the laptop with a huff and placed it beside him on the couch. This wasn't going to work out. The Italian gazed at Antonio for a while, considering that he should call his brother to make sure he was okay (not that he cared or anything). There hadn't been anymore death threats and it had been more than two weeks.

Maybe everything was okay…

Before long, Toni had moved on from his toys to the tomato pillow he had received from Gilbert on his and Francis's second (rather annoying) visit. The infant was lying on top of, snuggling his face into the soft fabric.

"_I thought he would like it," _Gilbert said with a smug grin. _"It's also kind of fitting that he was found in your tomato garden."_

"Stupid potato-bastard…" Lovino mumbled, shaking his head to be rid of the Prussian in his head. Why couldn't those potato-bastards ever leave him alone? They were always plaguing his thoughts in some way, shape or form!

_Ah-choo!_

That small noise was all Lovino needed to bring him back. Antonio was sitting up now, getting ready to sneeze again. Instead, a small coughing fit took over and ended just as fast.

"I hope you're not getting sick," Lovino lifted his son from the floor and placed his hand to the baby's forehead. "You do feel a little warm…"

Wanting to make sure, Lovino retrieved the thermometer from the bathroom and his stomach sank at the reading: 101.2. Antonio began to whimper lightly and the signs of him feeling under the weather were soon apparent. It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

><p>"How is it coming along?" a gruff voice asked in Italian.<p>

"Very good, sir," said a younger man, responding in the same language. "Although, _someone _decided to send the threat early."

The man he was referring to shrugged.

The older and clearly the leader cleared his throat to get their attention, "No more mistakes or I'll personally put you through the shredder. Keep a close eye on those two. They have what I want and nothing will stand in my way. If you have to eliminate a few pieces on the chess board then do it."

"Of course, sir. We'll get you what you want, rest assured," his first subordinate grinned wickedly.

"I'm going to hold you to that," the elder took a long puff of his cigar and it dissipated into nothing.

"Lovino Vargas won't even see it coming. We've trained your new recruit right—he's the youngest one here and will definitely have Vargas eating out of the palm of his hand. I know he won't disappoint you. All we need to do is wait until the time is right."

"Do what you have to do," the elderly man exhaled the smoke with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

* * *

><p><strong>I felt the sudden urge to stop there. So I did. shot.**

**I hope you enjoyed!**

**Translations (take note I do not use Google Translate; I use Dictionary . com but still feel free to correct me if there are mistakes):**

_Per favore- _Please

_Non posso lasciare loro!- _I can't leave them!

_Grande lavoro- _Great job


	9. Chapter 8

**Phew! Glad I got this chapter out on a homework-free weekend! We're almost to the tenth chapter mark so thank you to those who have helped keep this story alive! Now, there is a rather big time skip around the end. I hope you don't mind.**

**What's weird is that I wrote this somewhat fluffy chapter while listening to the vocaloid "Rugrats Theory."**

**Go listen to it on YouTube.**

**It's flipping creepy but I still love it (that song has forever ruined my childhood image of Rugrats).**

**Happy reading!**

**Warning: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and never will unless Himaruya decides to give me the rights. If he ever does, I will die happy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

Lovino sat up to soothe his son. The fever had yet to break and the cough was still running strong. The Italian had to run to the pharmacy earlier that night to buy some medicine to try and at least lessen the high fever. He had given Antonio the right amount but it hadn't helped.

Antonio thrashed tiredly in Lovino's arms, continuing to cry. He didn't enjoy the nauseating feeling—why wasn't his dad making it go away? He didn't understand! He kept getting chills and that nasty stuff he had to drink wasn't helping. Without knowing what else to do, Antonio's wails were all that was heard.

Lovino felt his stomach drop a bit.

He hoped that this wouldn't last long—Antonio had been sick only two other times and Lovino was just as concerned now as he was then.

"I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow morning, Toni. I promise," Lovino kissed his son's forehead.

* * *

><p>"It's just a stomach bug—it won't turn into anything serious. You caught it just in time, too. The flu is still going around, even in February. He's had all his immunizations, correct?" the doctor asked, brushing her hair out of her face.<p>

"Right," Lovino nodded.

"Good," she smiled at the infant sitting in the Italian's lap. "He's such a sweet baby. I assume he behaves well at home?"

"He has his moments," Lovino commented and placed his hand on Antonio's head.

"Don't they all?" she mussed Antonio's brunette curls. "I'm still surprised to see that you decided to take on such a huge responsibility, Lovino. But I'm glad you did," she giggled at the sight of Antonio nibbling lightly on Lovino's sleeve. "And by the looks of it, he's happy, too."

"All right, Elizabeta, don't get all sappy on me. You're making me sick," Lovino rolled his eyes and removed his sleeve from the baby's mouth and gave him the tomato rattle instead.

"It would've been nice to see if you and Antonio would've raised a child," the Hungarian woman sighed morbidly.

Lovino blushed deeply, "We thought about it—you know, adopting."

Elizabeta squealed in delight, "Maybe you would've gotten lucky and found a child that looked exactly like you two just like Ludwig and Feliciano did!"

Lovino's cheeks became a canvas of pure crimson while he sputtered over his words, "D-Don't mention that potato-bastard! It's bad enough that I see him almost every day with my brother and niece!"

"All right, Lovino, no need to get offended," Elizabeta smiled teasingly.

"Who the hell's getting offended? It sure as hell isn't me, damn it!" Lovino shot back.

"And you still have a potty mouth. Careful, Lovino. Children repeat what they hear," the doctor's smile seemed to widen if that was at all possible.

"Sh-Shut up!" Lovino growled, having nothing else to say.

"You're adorable when you're angry. Anyway, how have you been doing on the piano? Still practicing, I hope."

"Yeah. Antonio here likes to hear me play," Lovino replied. "Besides if I did quit, your husband would come over and reteach me."

"Damn straight he would," Elizabeta had an assuring twinkle in her green eyes. "You're too good for your talent to go to waste."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"It's true—he even called you a prodigy. When your grandfather wanted Feliciano to be taught, Roderich said that he nowhere near possessed the talent you did. You made quite an impression on him. Why do you think he was so hard on you all the time?" Elizabeta noticed the surprised look Lovino gave her while scanning Antonio's medical records.

She laughed at the Italian's silence, "You don't give yourself enough credit, Lovino."

The Italian didn't know what to say so Elizabeta continued, "I'll tell him you said thank you. You take care of Antonio, okay? You're all he has. And I think it was very nice of you to name this boy after him. And I'm terribly sorry for your loss and that we haven't dropped by to visit much."

"It isn't a problem," Lovino shrugged.

"Oh, before I forget, have you read the novel from the author by the name of Romano?"

Lovino visibly tensed, "Uh, no, I haven't."

"You really ought to! It's such a wonderfully sad story. This poor guy loses his true love in a car accident after they've had a fight. It's so heartbreaking but I couldn't stop reading it! It's the bestseller right now so you'd better get it before the bookstore runs out of copies," Elizabeta grinned. "It's called _The Forgotten Love, _by the way."

"I'll… look into it," Lovino shifted rather uncomfortably as his heart clenched rather unnervingly. He really didn't want one of his good friends to find out that was by him. He wasn't embarrassed. He just didn't want anyone to know.

"I hope Romano is writing a sequel to it! The way he left it hanging was just unbearable!" Elizabeta continued to fawn over Lovino's published work.

"Well, Elizabeta, we'll see you later. Thanks again for helping out," Lovino stood from his chair and readjusted Antonio in his arms.

"You're welcome, Lovino. You take care of yourself," the doctor smiled as the duo exited the room.

* * *

><p>Hearing the soft chirping of birds and feeling the sunshine leaking through the curtains on his face, large and innocent emerald eyes fluttered open. While his vision focused, he scanned the bedroom and settled on a certain man's face. Those emerald eyes instantly brightened from the weary dullness they held days before. The awful feeling he had was gone now and his father and that nice lady had made it go away.<p>

"Papa," Antonio pat his father's face to get the latter's attention.

"Mmm, Toni, it's still early…" Lovino mumbled, not wanting to move because his body suddenly felt heavier than a ton of bricks. "Five more minutes…"

"Papa! Papa!" Antonio continued to call, determined to make his father get up and give him the attention he desired.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Lovino rolled into a sitting position and stretched out his arms with a large yawn.

Antonio held out his arms, squealing excitedly. As soon as he was brought into his father's arms, Antonio curled into Lovino's chest, sighing contentedly. Lovino, trying to ignore the slight ache he had rippling throughout his body, ran his fingers throughout Toni's hair.

"_Buona mattina,"_ Antonio heard the warm and gentle tone that was his parent's. "Let's get you something to eat."

Antonio was then taken downstairs and to the kitchen where Lovino had given the infant small pieces of cut fruit, realizing the baby Spaniard was ready for it. As Lovino sat in a nearby chair to keep an eye out for Antonio, an abrupt roll of nausea crashed into him along with a headache.

"Ugh… I _cannot _be getting sick…" Lovino groaned, placing his head on the table. "This'll pass. It's just some bad food from last night."

But the reassurance he was giving himself didn't help at all.

When Antonio finished and Lovino had changed the infant's diaper, he placed Antonio amongst his toys and lounged on the couch with his arm over his eyes. The nausea wasn't lessening and the headache was absolutely merciless. He sniffled once, taking note of his congestion.

The shrill ringing of his phone only added fuel to the fire and the hammer beating down on his head strengthened. Instead of actually taking a hammer to the phone and crushing it to minute pieces like he wanted, he reached for his phone to silence it immediately by answering it.

"Hello?" he grumbled.

"_Oh? Fratello, you don't sound too good. Are you feeling all right?"_ Feliciano's voice was full of worry.

"No, I'm not. I feel like shit," Lovino's voice was razor sharp.

He could picture the younger Italian grimacing at the edge in his tone.

"_Mi dispiace," _Feliciano said. _"Do… you want me to take care of Antonio until you start feeling better? I know you don't want him getting sick again."_

"I probably caught it from him," Lovino replied. "I think I've got the flu."

"_You didn't get vaccinated, did you?"_

"…no," Lovino said after pausing.

Feliciano sighed, _"Fratello, you cannot neglect your health. It won't benefit you or Antonio."_

"I know, I know."

"_I'll be over there in ten minutes, okay, fratello? Hang tight until I get there."_

"I'm sick, not dying, _idiota," _Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose.

Feliciano laughed and they hung up. Ten minutes seemed like an eternity to the oldest of the Vargas brothers—that irritating wave of nausea and the body aches would be the death of him. He continued to try and listen for Antonio lest the infant get into trouble.

"Papa!" Antonio got to his feet, and while still not being accustomed to walking without support, cruised along the edge of the coffee table before travelling the short distance to the couch. The infant pat at his dad's leg and when that didn't work, he moved further up and pat Lovino's stomach.

He whined in frustration when Lovino failed to respond, "Papa!"

To Lovino, though, Antonio sounded so far away and the patting on his stomach and leg didn't help the aches coursing through his body.

"Papa!" Antonio hit with more force.

"Yes, Antonio?" Lovino said.

Happy that he finally attained his father's attention, Antonio said a string of jabber and nonsense which with Lovino responded, "Oh really? That's interesting, Antonio."

Antonio continued to chatter without much distinct. Remembering that Feliciano was on his way and not knowing how long this flu would be giving him hell, he proceeded to pack Antonio's bag for at least the rest of the day. He left the child's tomato pillow and rattle out for the time being. Just as he was finishing, the door opened and closed, grabbing only Antonio's attention, and Feliciano hurriedly entered the living room.

Not catching sight of Lovino and seeing Antonio all by himself again, Feliciano hastily looked around, _"Fratello? _Where are you?"

"Stop yelling, I'm right here—shit," Lovino was coming down the stairs with a red and green diaper bag.

Feliciano let out a heavy sigh of relief, "Phew! I thought you had passed out or something!"

"Give me some credit. I'm not an infant," Lovino held out the bag for Feliciano to take.

Grabbing it, without giving much thought to Lovino's sour mood, Feliciano turned to the infant on the floor. Lovino's already grumpy personality was intensified tenfold when he became ill—not that anybody wouldn't but Lovino was different. He learned from personal experience. There was a hole in the wall from where Lovino had thrown his alarm clock at Feliciano's head for over a week. Luckily, the little Italian had dodged it in time.

Now, Feliciano didn't think that Lovino would do something that drastic to Antonio but his brother needed some downtime to try and get better. Besides, this would be a great opportunity to spend some time with his nephew with whom he absolutely doted on.

"Fee!" Antonio squealed his own version of the other's name and held out his arms to be held by his uncle.

"_Ciao, il mio nipote piccolo," _Feliciano picked up the infant and kissed Antonio's nose. "You're getting so big and so heavy!"

Antonio giggled in delight.

"I appreciate you doing this," Lovino said in an almost inaudible tone.

"It's no trouble at all. Antonio's best interest is what we need to consider," Feliciano nodded.

"Take care of him, okay? If I'm not better by tomorrow you can drop by and get some more of his things. What's in his bag should last him the rest of the day," Lovino explained monotonously.

"Okay, no problem. Get well soon, all right?" Feliciano offered a smile.

"If he falls asleep, don't put him in another room for the night. He doesn't sleep in his own room here so I'm pretty damn sure he won't do it there," Lovino explained. "Sing the lullaby Grandpa did when we were little if he gets nervous. He'll calm down."

"Got it. I'll remember _fratello. _Don't you worry about a thing—Antonio is in great hands," Feliciano stepped outside once putting on Antonio's coat. The February chill nipped at their skin and Antonio shivered and cuddled into Feliciano's chest.

"You want to go to _Zio _Feliciano's house for a while, Antonio? You want to go play with Sienna?" Feliciano grinned at the baby in question when he received an exuberant agreement in the form of gibberish.

"_Fantastico!"_

"Be good for me, okay? I'll see you in the morning," Lovino mussed the infant's hair.

"Bah Papa!" Antonio waved.

Lovino gave a small smile and waved back, failing to notice the car parked outside his house and the person inside said vehicle watching his every move.

* * *

><p>Upon arriving at his house, Feliciano hurried inside to escape the cold. Sienna greeted him immediately with a hug and Antonio let out a delightful cry and tried to wiggle out of Feliciano's arms. The Italian quickly removed the child's coat and placed him on the floor with Sienna.<p>

"You're sure Lovino is okay with this?" Ludwig was at the foot of the stairs.

"_Sí," _Feliciano nodded, smiling at his German lover. "But you're okay with it, right?"

"Ja," Ludwig said, taking a seat next to Feliciano. "It bothers me none."

Feliciano's smile spread into a grin, _"Grazie, _Ludwig!"

"Mommy, Daddy, look!" Sienna pointed to the tiara Antonio was wearing and trying to get off. "He's a prince now!"

Feliciano laughed while Ludwig had a more disapproving look.

"Sienna, that isn't for boys," Ludwig couldn't help but smile as he took the tiara off of Antonio's head. It _was _rather amusing.

Relieved of the nuisance, Antonio settled himself on his tomato pillow and played with his rattle and the other toys Lovino packed for him. Feliciano watched the infant and soon became lost in his thoughts.

Seeing Antonio in this state had definitely been a huge revolution in his life but his outlook on the situation was now the same as Lovino's: in the end it would be worth it. Antonio had the chance to start over and although it may not have been in the way Lovino would've preferred, the Spaniard had returned—he was alive and well.

Feliciano had always considered Antonio to be another older brother, one he could turn to if Lovino was having problems of his own. He confided in the Spaniard greatly and was deeply upset when the cheerful man had lost his life because of someone who had been drinking far too much for a human to function.

That was where the venomous hatred and burning anger overcame the grief for both him and Lovino. Sure, the man had been taken to jail but that didn't assuage the pain nor did it bring Antonio back in those first few months of hardship. Lovino refused to see visitors and became violent if someone decided to enter his home uninvited, storming off into his room shortly after an outburst. Feliciano knew that he himself had lost his carefree lifestyle and his eyes that glowed like amber fire dimmed to a small and pitiful flame.

But that was in the past. It was behind them and it would stay that way.

"Feliciano? Are you okay?" Ludwig was waving a hand in front of the Italian's face.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking," Feliciano replied.

"About what?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about, _il mio amore," _Feliciano had a gentle smile.

* * *

><p>"Toni! Toni, get back here!" Lovino called after the child who took off down the aisles of the market.<p>

Antonio, now three years old, laughed and continued his little game (which Lovino didn't think of as a game at all) and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. He knew his father was right on his heels but he kept on running.

Turning the corner and thinking he had lost his dad, Antonio failed to realize that a single person was standing where he was headed… and rammed straight into them. The toddler toppled to the floor, rubbing his hurt head.

"Ow…" he sniffled and the tears pricked his large emerald eyes. "Papa…"

"Hey, little man, are you okay?" the stranger knelt down to be on eye level with the child.

"My head hurts…" Antonio began to weep. "I want my Papa!"

"All right, let's see if we can find your dad," the man helped Antonio to his feet and gave a kind and heartwarming smile. "Don't be scared, okay? We'll do it together that way we'll have a better chance of finding him."

"O-Okay…" Antonio nodded, taking the stranger's hand on instinct and the man didn't seem to mind.

"What's your name?"

"Antonio," the boy answered.

"Well, Antonio, can you tell me what your dad looks like?" the stranger questioned as they strolled through the many aisles of the store.

"H-He has green eyes like me and a funny little hair that likes to stick out from his head. Papa says it's annoying," Antonio replied.

"Green eyes and a funny little hair that likes to stick out? Sounds easy enough," the man's eyes glistened an unrealistic blue when he smiled again.

"Antonio!" a voice came from behind them as they walked past the chilled foods area.

Hearing his name, Antonio swiftly turned his head and his face brightened instantly. There was his dad! The toddler quickly sprinted over to the Italian and into his father's waiting arms, crying indistinct phrases save for a few.

"I'm sorry I ran off, Papa! I won't do it ever again! I'm so sorry!"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, Antonio. You run off every time I turn my back. We've talked about this, remember?" Lovino's voice wasn't stern and he just simply held the child close, taking note of Antonio's rapidly beating heart.

"I'm sorry, Papa… I'll be a good boy from now on! I promise! I'll clean up my room and pick up my toys when I'm done playing with them and I'll eat all my food before eating candy! I promise! Just please don't be mad at me!" Antonio's eyes showed pure innocence and sincerity.

"All right, Toni, I'm not mad. Just don't do it again, you understand?" Lovino lowered the boy to the floor.

"_Sí! _Never again!"Antonio nodded.

Now that the situation had been settled, Lovino turned his icy green gaze to the man that was with his son. This stranger was by no means unattractive. He was actually very attractive. His brunette hair had a light curl to it and his azure eyes were deeper than any ocean and his perfectly tanned skin was from an adequate amount of time in the sun. The man's musculature wasn't overdone but it was still obvious that he worked out.

Lovino nearly slapped himself silly.

He was _not _checking this guy out!

He had no time for petty relationships!

He had responsibilities to attend to!

Paternal instincts on high alert, Lovino pulled Antonio closer (if not a little behind him) and put up a front. His emerald eyes never lost their ferocity as he searched for any sign of this "savior" that screamed pedophile.

Who was this man and why was he with Antonio?

"Well, Antonio, you found your dad. See? Two people looking helps, doesn't it?" the stranger smiled.

"Uh-huh! Thank you Mister for helping me find my Papa!" Antonio grinned.

"And who the hell are you?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

Not offended by Lovino's harsh tone, the man simply stuck out his hand for the Italian to shake, "I'm Marcello Russo."

Realizing that the man's name was Italian but his voice did not carry an accent, Lovino questioned further, "Where are you from?"

"Oh, I'm a citizen of America but was born and bred right here in good old Italy. I'm actually visiting some family members of mine while I'm on vacation. I'm a psychiatrist for abuse victims eighteen and younger," Marcello continued to have that perfect smile that was far too familiar to his liking.

"I see. Well, Marcello, thank you for helping us out. We'd better get going now. We have other plans," Lovino took Antonio's hand.

"Wait, I never caught your name," Marcello called after the Italian after the duo began walking away. "It's only common courtesy."

Lovino paused, considering the request and the Italian-American waited patiently.

"My name is Lovino Vargas."

"It was nice to meet you, Lovino. Hopefully we'll run into each other again before I have to leave," Marcello waved kindly.

"Likewise."

Leaving the conversation on that note, Lovino and Antonio headed for the checkout area.

"Papa, do you think Uncle Gilbert and Uncle Francis can come over and play with me? _Tio _Feli said that they were going to be coming over! Uncle Gilbert always brings me cool toys to play with!" Antonio was looking at the rows of candy bars on the small shelf near where they were waiting.

"But you always throw them at his head," Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"I only do that because it's fun!" Antonio giggled with a mischievous glint in his forest green eyes.

"That's my boy," Lovino mussed Antonio's already unkempt hair proudly.

* * *

><p><strong>There you have it! We are now getting into the deeper part of the plot I have written out for all you lovely readers~ There will be no prisoners-only trophies.<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 9

**I can't remember the last time I wrote this long of a chapter (over 4,000 words compared so some author's 9,000) /shot. Anyway, TONS of events happen in this chappie so I hope it is to your enjoyment. Forgive me for grammar/spelling/foreign language mistakes. This is unbeta'd.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warning: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

"Uncle Gilbert! Uncle Francis!" Antonio hugged the duo tightly when he answered the door.

"Hey, little guy! Man, you've gotten so big! You'll be as awesome as me one day! But not too awesome because I'll still be the most awesome person out there," Gilbert grinned.

"You talk too much," Francis rolled his eyes but then his expression softened when he looked at Antonio. "How have you been doing?"

"I've been good. Papa and I just got back from the store and he let me eat the candy he got for me. I had to finish all my lunch though. Even the vegetables," Antonio made a face of disgust at the mention of the food.

"Well, Toni, you need to eat all your vegetables to get big and strong," Francis explained.

"Bleh! But they're so yucky—I don't want to eat them," Antonio whined.

"Don't listen to Frenchie, he's just being a hard ass," Gilbert said and earned a solid smack to the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You know not to be using that kind of language around him!" Francis scolded.

"His dad's just as much of a bad mouth as I am! I'm surprised the kid is still innocent!" Gilbert rubbed his head and grumbled something indistinctly.

"Speaking of your dad, where is he? He hasn't come down and yelled at us yet," Francis looked around.

"Oh he's upstairs working on something. I don't know what it is but he told me to behave and not get into any trouble at all. I have to listen because I made a promise to Papa that I would be a good boy from now on," Antonio explained.

"I see. Well we'd best not disturb him," Francis nodded.

"I'll go up and get him," Antonio stumbled up the stairs and reached Lovino's room where the Italian was fast asleep on his bed, laptop beside him. The screen displayed an open document that was no doubt Lovino's next book he planned on publishing (if he ever got around to it).

"Papa," Antonio crawled onto the bed and Lovino did not stir. "Papa, wake up. Uncle Gilbert and Uncle Francis are here."

Lovino still didn't budge and kept his even and peaceful breathing. Beginning to get frustrated, Antonio scooted closer to the Italian and opened one of Lovino's eyes forcefully, "Papa. Wake up, Papa."

This time Lovino did regain consciousness but only for the time it took for him to roll over and fall back to sleep. Antonio was beyond frustrated now. He stood up and jumped onto his father and the Italian let out a grunt of both surprise and a bit of pain.

"Toni, what're you doing?" Lovino sounded irritated as he rubbed his eyes.

"Uncle Gilbert and Uncle Francis are here," Antonio replied innocuously.

"Oh okay," Lovino nodded, resting his head on the pillow again and closed his eyes. But then they snapped open. "Wait, who's here?"

"Uncle Francis and Uncle Gilbert," Antonio blinked a few times in confusion.

"Who let them in?"

"…I did…"

"Antonio Vargas," Lovino started, and the boy knew he was in trouble when his full name was being used and his father's look was austere, "What have I told you about answering the door?"

"To not to…" Antonio twiddled his thumbs.

"Right. So why did you do it?"

"I didn't want to wake you up. I wanted to be a big boy and open the door by myself…"

After hearing that answer, Lovino's anger dissipated. He didn't want to physically discipline him (since his own father abused that power when he was a child but that was another story for another day) and Antonio wasn't a bad kid. A scolding would usually be sufficient enough. Like any other child his age, he would slip up and make mistakes. He couldn't stay mad at the toddler for long—not even when he was grown man.

"All right, all right, I'll be down there in a minute," Lovino sat up and Antonio's eyes brightened.

"Okay Papa!" Antonio ran out the door and back down the stairs.

Sighing with amusement, Lovino saved his work and shut his laptop down, stretching soon afterward and sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn't believe he had actually fallen asleep. Well, in a sense, he could. The editor had been literally breathing down his neck about the book he was currently writing and had lost an adequate amount of sleep because of this.

He rubbed his neck tiredly. This job was paying the bills and keeping food on the table so he had little room to complain. Antonio was being supported and that's all that mattered. Standing up, with his back popping in a few places (he swore he was getting too old), Lovino made his way to the living room.

When he arrived, he was greeted by Antonio and Gilbert wrestling on the floor and Francis watching the duo. Lovino only rolled his eyes and took a seat opposite Francis on the other couch.

"Ah, and he makes an appearance! _Bonjour, _Lovino. I assume you slept well?" Francis smirked.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Gilbert grinned before being tackled by Antonio again and the little bout continued on good-naturedly.

"Hi," Lovino simply said.

"You must really be tired if you're not yelling at us. What's been keeping you up late at night, _mon ami?" _Francis asked.

"Work," Lovino yawned again.

"Ah, paperwork?"

"You could say that," Lovino shrugged.

"Toni, does my brother ever let you wrestle around with him like this?" Gilbert asked as Toni was climbing on top of his head but only managed to sit atop the Prussian's shoulders.

"Uh, sometimes. Sienna and I wrestle each other a lot and then we'll get Uncle Ludwig to come and wrestle, too," Antonio replied with a thoughtful look and rested his head on Gilbert's.

"He's still not as awesome as me though, right?"

"You're both pretty awesome, Uncle Gil," Antonio let out a tiny giggle.

"But I'm more awesome!" Gilbert protested with a frown (pout).

"And that's why you still write in a journal like some silly junior high girl, _oui?" _Francis smirked, knowing he had struck a nerve.

Gilbert's russet eyes almost turned red from anger and embarrassment, "Who told you about that?"

"No one; you've been doing it since junior high," Francis had a triumphant expression.

"Hmph! I refuse to acknowledge your presence anymore, stupid Frenchie," Gilbert turned his back to the blonde. "Now, Toni, would Ludwig give you awesome toys every time he comes to visit?"

"You see him once every few months," Lovino commented. "My brother and your brother see him almost every day."

"Did I ask you for your opinion? No? So stay the hell out of my business. I am trying to have a conversation with my awesome nephew," Gilbert growled, still flushed from his secret being revealed.

"He's my son so I have the right to enter any conversation that fucking concerns him," Lovino retorted calmly, unaware of the word he let slip.

Antonio had a confused look as he hopped off of Gilbert's shoulders, "Papa, what does 'fuck' mean?"

All heads swiveled to Antonio in astonishment and the child merely blinked a few times, trying to assess why they were all giving him such funny looks. Was it something he said?

Not being able to hold it any longer, Gilbert and Lovino burst into laughter, clutching at their sides. Francis, on the other hand, still carried his surprised expression. Antonio's head tilted to the side. Why were they laughing? Was the question he asked a joke?

"That is not funny!" Francis reprimanded the two grown men in the room who were still laughing almost uncontrollably. Rolling his eyes, the Frenchman looked at Antonio, "Toni, _mon cher, _you mustn't say that word. It's a very bad word."

"It is?" Antonio gasped and covered his mouth with both hands and had a fretful look. "Papa says it all the time so I thought it was okay if I said it, too."

"_Non, non, _you must not. Only grownups are allowed to say that word," Francis explained gently.

"Oh okay," Antonio nodded.

Finally gathering himself, Lovino managed to stop laughing for a few minutes to also explain, "The Frenchie's right, Toni. You can't say that word. Not until you're _much, much _older."

"Okay, Papa. I won't say it anymore," Antonio smiled.

Gilbert, finding too much enjoyment in this, was still chuckling, "That made my day, man! _That _was sheer awesome-ness at work! You've got one hell of a kid here!"

The Prussian was immediately met with a pillow being hurled at his face by an aggravated Italian.

"You son of a-" Gilbert caught himself as he was about to the throw the pillow and dropped the fluffy weapon. "You're lucky your kid is in the room or we'd have a serious problem."

"Is that you or your ego talking?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

Gilbert was about to reply but stopped short when Antonio exclaimed happily, "Wow! You got me an airplane? How cool! Thank you, Uncle Gilbert!"

"No problem, little man!" Gilbert gave the child a thumbs-up.

"There's more in the bag, Toni," Francis smiled.

"Really?" Antonio dug into the bag excitedly and pulled out a small box. Opening it, his face lit up even more. "Wow! Toy soldiers! Their faces are all different!"

The wooden toy soldiers were painted in brown uniforms, some had moustaches, and some didn't. Some looked happy while others looked sad or angry.

"_Oui, _that is the handiwork of a very good friend of mine in England. His name is Arthur Kirkland. He claims he hates me but still hangs around," Francis shrugged. "His own son Alfred has some toy soldiers just like those and Arthur had made them just for him. Alfred still has them even though they are a bit worn out."

"How old is Alfred?" Lovino was curious.

"Sixteen. He'll be turning seventeen on July 4th," Francis answered. "I swear Alfred Jones is as crazy as they come. Eats almost seven hamburgers in one sitting and still manages to stay as thin as he is."

"Jones? He has a different last name than his dad?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Alfred's mother passed away shortly after he was born so to honor her memory, Arthur gave Alfred his mother's maiden name. Alfred never truly had the chance to know her save for those first few days she held him. He remembers her, though, which is absolutely remarkable," Francis said with a sad smile.

"I see. Well tell him that we appreciate it. He didn't have to do that," Lovino didn't look at the Frenchman.

"Of course," Francis nodded.

Antonio, now playing with his plane and toy soldiers, grabbed the phone (which he assumed was the broken one he always played with) and punched in a stream of numbers. He pictured it as a walkie-talkie and those numbers were now a special top secret code.

He placed it to his ear and froze when he heard the dial tone. The child became even more worried when someone actually answered on the other line.

"_Hello?"_

"Um, hi…" Antonio said meekly.

"_Hi. Who is this?"_

"Antonio. Who is this?" the boy replied.

"_Ah, Antonio! It's Marcello. Remember me from the store?"_

"Oh yeah! I remember you now!" Antonio grinned.

"Antonio, who're you talking to?" Lovino was on his feet and making his way towards him.

"It's Mister Marcello, Papa. The man from the store, remember?"

Lovino's brow twitched, "He called?"

"No, I accidentally did. I thought it was the broken phone I always play with," Antonio handed the phone over to his parent.

Taking it, Lovino was suffice with that answer and pressed it to his ear, "Sorry about that. He didn't mean to call you."

"_It's all right—no need to worry about it. He's a great kid. You know, I was just thinking about you," _Marcello's smile could be heard through the phone.

Lovino turned red instantly—whether of embarrassment or the fact that he was indeed attracted to this peculiar young man was even beyond him.

"_I was thinking I could take you out to dinner sometime this week—if you don't mind, of course."_

"We've only met once and you're already asking me out?" Lovino nearly yelled.

"_Well, I like you, believe it or not. You're interesting to me," _Marcello laughed.

"You hardly know me," Lovino nearly growled.

"_I know that you're different."_

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"_No not at all!" _Marcello let out a hesitant laugh. _"Hmm, 'unique' is a better word."_

"Unique, huh? Cliché but I'll take it."

Marcello didn't seem like too bad of a guy when they first met… maybe one dinner wouldn't hurt… besides, he'd like to get to know this guy's 'ulterior motive' for helping Antonio. He couldn't help but be overprotective of his son.

"_So what do you say? Friday night at Luigi's Restaurant? Eight-thirty? Of course I'll pick you up and pay for the night."_

"Sure. Friday night is fine," Lovino agreed, catching the attention of the other men in the room.

"_Awesome. I'll see you then."_

"Yeah…" Lovino nodded and they hung up. It was then that the sheer realization of the situation sent into a near panic attack. He just agreed to go out to dinner with a man he hardly even knew but was undoubtedly attracted to.

Perfect…

"Whoa, man, who was that? You got a date or something?" Gilbert teased.

Lovino could've killed him right then and there and the police would've never found the body. "I guess…"

"That is great, Lovino. You deserve to have someone to love again," Francis gave an approving nod.

Yup, there goes his second victim. No evidence would've been left of the two. He would kill them—kill them dead. Like with a rock… or something.

He hadn't been this nervous for a simple dinner ever since Antonio first asked him out. Now _that _had been a serious case of butterflies in his stomach. Child Antonio's curiosity was now peaked and he listened to the adult's conversation. What was a date? His dad didn't mention taking him along.

Whatever this 'date' thing was it didn't sound too good… or fun for that matter.

"Papa, what's a date?" Antonio wondered. The boy grew even more confused as his father turned an unbelievable shade of red. Was he sick? Did he have a fever?

"Glad you asked, little man," Gilbert smirked. "A date is when two people go out to dinner or a movie and talk about romantic stuff no one cares about—at least not us awesome single people. They kiss and hug and other gross things. Oh and no kids are allowed."

"Really?" Antonio seemed sad. Did his dad not want him to come? He promised that he would be a good boy, and he really was trying! He made his bed every day (it was not as neat as his dad's but he tried!), picked up his toys and put them back in the toy box, and even helped his dad do the chores around the house!

Was… his father angry at him?

He hoped not!

"Why can't kids go?" Antonio questioned.

"Because it's really boring—you'll be the only kid there while your dad is hanging out with another guy," Gilbert said.

So he and his dad wouldn't be spending any together on this date thing? Antonio could've sworn he felt his heart break. But something new and completely foreign ignited inside of him. He didn't want his father spending time with someone other than him. It was supposed to be just him and his dad forever and ever!

His Papa couldn't go on a date! He wouldn't allow it? What if he never came back because he liked it better with someone else instead of him? Maybe if he pretended to be sick or hurt, his dad would just _have _to stay home with him!

"Toni, don't listen to anything that _idiota _says. He makes it sound way worse than it is. I'll be back on the same night as I leave," Lovino held the boy close when Antonio's eyes filled with tears.

He understood that Antonio was nervous about him leaving. The duo hadn't really been separated for more than hour—two at most. There wasn't any need for them to. Antonio had become the center of the Italian's world once again.

"It's just for a few hours and then I'll be back home, okay? There's nothing for you to worry about at all," Lovino offered a smile.

"But you're _my _daddy…" Antonio sniffled.

"I know I am and I always will be. Remember Marcello? The man who helped you in the store? He's the one who's taking me out," Lovino said.

Antonio pouted. If Mister Marcello was taking his daddy away from him then he didn't like that guy anymore! He didn't care if Marcello helped him find his dad! He was a jerk—a big fat stupid jerk!

"Will I be able to go on a date, too? The kind that allows kids?" Antonio gazed into the eyes of his parent. He noticed that they were a much lighter hue than his.

"Of course. Promise," Lovino nodded.

"Pinky promise?" Antonio held out his tiny finger.

"Pinky promise," Lovino hooked his larger finger around Antonio's.

Antonio smiled, "Okay, Papa. You can go on your little 'date' thingy."

Lovino rolled his eyes playfully, "I needed your permission?"

"_Sí!" _Antonio grinned.

"He can stay with the awesome me while you're out!" Gilbert grinned.

"Fat chance," Lovino scoffed. "He'll stay with your brother before he stays with you."

"You suck."

"Is that what you did last night?"

Gilbert sputtered over his words at the innuendo—or rather the fact that Lovino was being so blunt.

"Checkmate," it was Lovino's turn to smirk.

"I hate you!" Gilbert growled.

* * *

><p>Friday came fairly quickly for the Vargas family. The sky was a beautiful canvas of peaches, magentas, and flamingo pink. Marcello was going to be arriving in the next hour and Lovino was still contemplating what he should wear. He didn't want to overdo it but he wanted to look somewhat decent. Settling on a red button-down shirt and dark wash jeans, Lovino proceeded to get dressed.<p>

Antonio was all set for the night and was playing downstairs, playing with the new gifts he received from Gilbert and Francis's friend. The boy was definitely excited about spending the night at his uncle's house and getting to play with Sienna. He fixated the green wool hat on his head that represented the face of a turtle.

After slipping on his shoes, Lovino went downstairs, expecting to find Antonio but was met with an empty living room.

"Antonio?" he called. "Where are you?"

"In here, Papa," Antonio replied back from the piano room. And as if to prove his point, he played a few random ivory keys.

Lovino sauntered inside the room and sat on the piano bench beside his son.

"Papa, before I go, can you play me a song?"

"Which one?" Lovino questioned.

"Any one. It doesn't matter to me," Antonio smiled.

Lovino nodded and surprised at how easy the first measure of the piece came to him, he began to play. But this time, the song wasn't the forlorn tune of a broken heart. It was one of a heart that had mended however; nonetheless, the scar was still there and was still fragile.

The song made Lovino relive all the beautiful memories he shared with Antonio back then… and right now.

Antonio watched his father play and even though he had seen this many times before, it still amazed him. He thought of a bird gracefully soaring through the sky high above the earth, unmatched by any other creature. The Italian's fingers glided over the keys like swans skimming over the surface of the water, barely making a ripple on its tranquil surface.

Then Antonio noticed something else. His dad was always so sad when playing the piano. Why was that? He thought his father liked playing the piano. It made him happy so why wasn't his dad happy, too?

"Papa?" Antonio broke the silence after Lovino had finished the piece.

"Yes?"

"Why are you so sad?"

Lovino would've been lying if he said the question didn't catch him off guard. Making sure he heard right, Lovino looked at the boy and the sincere gaze he was receiving was all that was needed.

"Well," Lovino sighed, running a hand through his hair, "one of my very good friends used to ask me to play the piano for him all the time, just like you do."

"Really? Where is your friend? Can I meet him?" Antonio was sitting on his knees.

"You, um, can't meet him, Toni," Lovino tried to find the right way to phrase it.

"How come?" Antonio's head tilted to the side, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"He passed away before you were born," Lovino placed his head atop Antonio's head.

"He did? Oh… that's really sad… where do you think he is now, Papa?"

"Wherever he is, I hope he's happy," Lovino smiled although it was pained.

The knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Antonio bounded off the bench yelling excitedly, _"Zio _Feliciano! _Zio _Ludwig!"

The Italian followed closely behind him and Antonio was bouncing on the balls of his feet, absolutely thrilled. Lovino opened the door and the child darted out the door and Feliciano toppled over into Ludwig's arms when Antonio had nearly tackled him.

"Someone's excited to see us," Feliciano laughed.

"I'm always happy to see you guys! Where's sis?" Antonio looked around.

"Right here, Toni," the girl appeared from behind Ludwig. Her strawberry blonde curls were tied into pigtails with blue ribbons that matched her dress. Sienna, now six years old, had finally come out of her shell and blossomed into a beautiful but still ever-growing flower.

"Hi, Sisi!" Antonio hugged the girl tightly.

"Hi, Toni," Sienna giggled.

Turning back to his dad, Antonio saw that Lovino had knelt down to be at eye-level with him.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Be good, all right? I'll know if you weren't," Lovino said.

"I know, Papa. I will be," Antonio hugged the Italian. _"Vi amo, _Papa."

"_Ti amo, figlio," _Lovino hugged the child back and kissed his head.

"You have fun, _fratello! _And let me know how it goes! No details spared!" Feliciano clapped his hands excitedly and in a near childish manner.

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino put his hands in his pockets.

"Come on, Toni! Let's beat my Mommy and Daddy to the car!" Sienna reached for said child's hand.

"Okay!" Antonio tried to keep up with the girl as best he could.

Ludwig sighed and followed the children to the car just to make sure they didn't hurt themselves in their little 'race' to the vehicle.

"_Grazie, fratello," _Lovino said, watching the sun dip down below the horizon like an unforeseen kiss.

"There is no need to thank me," Feliciano spoke in his native tongue as well. "Antonio will be fine. What time do you anticipate to be back?"

"Around nine probably. Ten at the latest. Have him in bed at 8:45, okay?"

"Got it. Just call when you're outside and the front door will be unlocked," Feliciano waved as he was heading towards the car. "Have fun, _fratello!"_

Lovino waited until the car's tail lights melted into the darkness before retreating back into his home. He glanced at the clock.

7:45.

Marcello would be here any minute now—

The doorbell rang.

_Speak of the devil, _Lovino muttered inside his head. The Italian opened the door almost uncertainly and was met with Marcello's flawless smile and cobalt eyes. The Italian-American was dressed in a beige sweater and dark wash jeans and the outfit complimented every aspect of him.

"_Ciao~," _Marcello smiled.

"Hi," Lovino stuck to speaking English.

"You look great! I was afraid I was underdressed or something!" Marcello scratched the back of his head which seemed to be a nervous habit.

Fighting down a blush and the urge to insult this man, Lovino replied quietly, _"Grazie."_

"Shall we go?" Marcello stepped aside for Lovino to take the lead and fell in stride behind the Italian. He opened the passenger door for Lovino and quickly went around to the driver's side.

The car ride over there was fairly awkward since neither had the intention but wanted the other to break the silence. Not being able to withstand the quiet, Lovino reached for the radio at the same time Marcello did and their fingers brushed as falling feathers would kiss the ground.

They retracted their hands back just as quick and did not miss the electric current that tingled at their fingertips. Lovino kept his hands firmly in his lap.

"So Lovi," Marcello began but was taken aback at how negatively Lovino responded to that statement.

"_Lovino. _My name is Lovino. _Don't _call me Lovi," the Italian did not take his eyes off the road but with the headlights of cars passing by, there was no doubt that what Marcello said had triggered memories the young man would rather forget.

"Ah, I see. _Mi dispiace. _I didn't mean to offend you," Marcello sighed. He was already screwing up.

"Don't worry about it," Lovino mumbled, the hurt still evident in his voice.

After more agonizing moments of silence, Marcello shattered it again, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine so don't ask again," Lovino replied.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I've upset you. It wasn't my intention. I just thought-" the blue-eyed man sighed. "Never mind. Forget I ever said anything."

"No, _I've _already forgotten about it. _You _haven't. So come on. I don't plan on spending the rest of my night standing outside," Lovino rolled his eyes and went to the restaurant's entrance.

With the weight lifted off his chest, Marcello happily followed behind.

* * *

><p>Lovino quietly entered the house, hoping that the floorboards wouldn't creak unbearably loud. He had returned at ten, just as he said he would. Feliciano and Ludwig were on separate couches watching what he recognized as <em>The Lion King <em>but the kids were fast asleep. Sienna was curled up against her father's chest while Antonio was lying against Feliciano.

"How did it go?" Feliciano whispered so as not to wake the children.

"It was all right," Lovino picked up Antonio's tomato backpack that was full of coloring books and his toy airplane and soldiers. He reached out for the boy and Feliciano happily handed said child over. "How did he do?"

"He was wonderful as always. I don't even know why you ask," Feliciano grinned.

"I'm curious," Lovino shrugged. "Thanks again for doing this."

"Like I said, no need to thank me. I'm always happy to babysit him. He and Sienna have tons of fun together," Feliciano stood up and stretched out his sore muscles while Ludwig went to put Sienna to bed.

Lovino and Ludwig only shared a single nod in greeting and departure before their attention was drawn elsewhere.

"So he's a nice guy?"

"Yeah… he's nice," Lovino mumbled.

"_Fantastico," _Feliciano sighed in content. "You deserve to be happy, too, _fratello."_

"_Grazie, _Feli. I'll call you in the morning."

"_Buona notte," _Feliciano waved and turned off the television.

"_Buona notte," _and Lovino was out the door.

* * *

><p>He pulled up to the warehouse, exiting his car with a stride that echoed both vanity and an aloof demeanor. The young man entered the building and the shutting door announced his arrival. Everyone turned to face him and a man in his mid-fifties simply asked in Italian:<p>

"How did it go?"

"It went as planned," the man smirked.

"You've done well, Marcello," the elder man put out his cigar in the ash tray. "I assume you know what to do from here on out?"

Marcello's smirk only broadened.

* * *

><p><strong>So now we know who's in affiliation with the bad guys. If you've had suspicions about him, you were right. I hope you guys are okay with an OC being with a canon character. I really don't ship any other person with Lovino other than Antonio.<strong>

**The song Lovino was playing for Antonio is called Beautiful Memories by Adrian von Ziegler.**

**Go listen to it.**

**NOW. It's truly amazing.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Side Story: Reveries?

**Okay, so inspiration for this story is a little low. I'm on spring break and I thought I would be able to update faster than this but I suppose not. Sorry for the wait. I was having some... familial issues and also some friend issues. It's just been hectic. So instead of a full chapter that would've been absolute crap, I am simply updating with a side story. I hope you all don't mind and enjoy anyway.**

**Warnings: language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

><p><strong>Side Story:<strong>

**Reveries?**

_It was dark._

_Dark and… lonely._

_So lonely…_

…_and cold._

"Papa?"_ Antonio called out into the endless abyss. _"Papa, where are you? I'm scared!"

_The boy fell to his knees and wept loud enough for whoever was out there listening to hear. He just wanted someone to take him home—to take him out of this hellhole. Suddenly, he felt the coolness of the evening breeze sweep over him and the black mass around him began to take shape and form into the neighborhood he lived in._

_Looking around, he noticed that he was directly in front of his house inside a car and the moon gave off a comforting, aloof glow. The stars twinkled dully in the velvet sky, watching him closely. Delighted to be in familiar surroundings, he tried to unbuckle himself and remove himself from the vehicle but stopped when he heard a voice he knew all too well._

_The voice of his father._

"Then maybe you should just leave!"

_Antonio's heart skipped a few beats when he heard the command loud and clear. He wasn't talking to him, was he? Antonio didn't hear any response from the other side of the door so he could only assume…_

_No!_

_His dad would never say something like that!_

_But the pain in his heart indicated that this was so._

_He desperately tried to unbuckle himself but the seat belt was stuck. Trying to wriggle out of it, he found that he was planted firmly in the seat._

"Papa! Help me!"

_Maybe if he yelled loud enough, his father would come and help him get out of this fix. But his father did not come. Instead, a young man stormed out the front door of his house and climbed inside the car. At first, Antonio figured this man to be Marcello but he was wrong._

_This stranger greatly resembled him._

_The car hummed to life and they were out of the driveway and speeding down the street. Antonio caught sight of his father running out the door and calling his name._

_His father was worried for him!_

_This man was taking him to some strange place!_

"Take me home right now! I wanna go home!" _Antonio beat his tiny fists against this stranger's shoulder but the brunette did not seem to notice._

"I want my daddy! Take me home now!"

_But the man ignored him._

_Settled on crying, Antonio hid his face in his knees and wept until his eyes were dry of tears._

"Why won't you take me home…?" _Antonio questioned. _"I wanna go home…"

_It was then that he heard the man beside him sniffle and wipe away obvious tears. Why was he crying? Did he feel bad for taking Antonio away from his dad? Or was he upset because his dad was yelling?_

"Mister? Are you okay?" _Antonio asked with genuine concern._

_He was met with silence._

_It was as if the man didn't even know he was there!_

_Sighing, Antonio looked out the windshield and along the empty road. There wasn't much else to look at since it was so dark._

_Abruptly, lights filled his vision and a blaring horn blasted in his ears. The sounds of metal screeching against the asphalt and shattering glass made him scream silently for his father. And then there was a horrible pain that spread throughout his entire body like blazing fire._

_His head, his neck, his arms and legs…_

_It hurt everywhere!_

_Lying on the side of the freezing road, Antonio found himself falling further and further into the darkness he feared with no one to catch him._

"No! No! Papa! Papa, help me!"

He then felt the secure arms of his parent wrapping around him protectively, whispering comforting words in his ear.

"Antonio, _non piangere. Io sono qui. Io vi protegga," _Lovino rubbed small circles on the child's back in hopes of soothing the boy.

"It hurts, Papa… it hurts so much…" Antonio sobbed, clinging tightly onto the Italian.

"What hurts?"

"E-Everything…" Antonio trembled. "It was so loud and bright! I couldn't find you and I was hurting and I wanted you to make it all better! But you told me you wanted me to leave…"

Lovino froze.

"You said to leave and I thought you were talking to me. But some man came out of our house and got in the car with me. We left and everything got so loud and bright. I was hurting everywhere… do you still want me to leave, Papa?"

"No, never!" Lovino protested and brought the child close to reassure him. "I would never tell you to leave. You're my son."

Lovino couldn't lose Antonio again. These 'dreams' were something to watch out for.

* * *

><p>"<em>That's some dream," <em>Feliciano commented over the phone after Lovino explained last night's events. _"But it sounds far too similar to what happened to Antonio."_

"That's the thing, Feli. I don't think it was a dream at all," Lovino sighed as he put away the washed dishes after he and Antonio finished lunch.

"_What do you think it is, then?"_

"As crazy as it sounds, I think it's a memory from Antonio's past life."

"_What makes you think that?" _Feliciano sounded genuinely confused.

"He described the night he died exactly as it happened. I don't think that's there's any other way to explain it," Lovino ran a hand through his hair when he sat down at the kitchen table.

"_That's crazy," _Feliciano remarked. _"How is he doing?"_

"He was shaken up by it of course since he didn't understand. He's scared; I can hardly leave his side for more than ten minutes," Lovino replied.

"_Poor boy. What is he doing now?"_

"He's taking a nap. He didn't sleep well for the rest of the night," Lovino poked his around the corner to check on his son who was sleeping on the couch.

"_I would keep an eye on him more than anything. It could be past memories," _Feliciano mused. _"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they were."_

Lovino nodded, "Oh and tell me you're alone and the potato-bastard is not around while we're talking about this."

"_Of course I am, fratello!" _he could hear Feliciano grin.

"Good."

"Papa… Papa…" Antonio's whimpers were quiet and fretful, as if he had trouble finding his voice..

"_Hey, Feli, I've got to call you back," _Lovino then hung up and hurried to tend to his son.

Antonio clung onto the Italian as soon as his father approached, crying softly, "Don't leave me, Papa. Please don't leave me."

"I won't leave you. I was just in the kitchen," Lovino said.

"I don't like the dark, Papa. Make it go away," Antonio pled.

The darkness?

Death. Is that what Antonio experienced when he had passed on? He was all alone in that abyss and it had been Lovino's fault for causing such an experience. The Italian wouldn't abandon the brunette a second time.

No, not again.

The duo was quiet for a moment before Antonio spoke again, "I had a different dream this time, though."

"What was it about?" Lovino's hand rested itself on the child's head.

"I was out in the tomato garden and it was really bright outside. I was putting tomatoes in a big basket. And you were in it, too, Papa. But I was taller than you this time."

Dreams?

Lovino thought not.

The shrill ringtone of Lovino's phone shattered their conversation and Lovino sighed upon looking at the caller I.D.

Marcello.

What did he want?

"_Ciao," _Lovino simply said in monotone.

"_Bello ciao~! How are you doing today?" _Marcello's voice was overly cheerful and even sounded forced.

"I was good until you called."

"_Ouch, Lovino. That one hurt,"_ Marcello now sounded like a put out flame.

"Good," Lovino retorted.

"_Aw, Lovino, don't be like that. And to think I was going to invite you to lunch,"_ Marcello pouted on the other end of the line.

"Antonio and I have already had lunch," Lovino replied.

"_Oh okay. So is it all right if I come over?"_

"Well-"

"_Awesome! I'll see you in about an hour! Bye~!" _Marcello hung up.

Lovino wanted to crush the phone in his hand.

So much for a day that would be just him and Antonio.

But why did Marcello sound so… off?

"Mister Marcello is coming over?" Antonio asked.

"Sadly yes," Lovino sighed.

He had no time to think about how Marcello sounded. The Italian-American would be showing up soon and he had to think of a way to try and not kill the man while he was here.


	12. Chapter 10

**Another chappie! I hope you all enjoy this one. I apologize if it seems a bit rushed but I figured it was time to get the plot going. It's 12:30 AM and I think I'm going to hit the sack.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

"Lovino!" Marcello pulled the Italian into a tight hug upon arriving at the brunette's doorstep.

"L-Let me go!" Lovino desperately tried to release himself of the hug.

"But _Lovino~! _We went on a date! Why can't I hug you?" Marcello whined.

"Sh-shut up, _idiota! _It wasn't a date! It was a simple dinner!" Lovino fought back a blush while beating his fists against the man's chest. "Now let me go!"

"All right, all right, Lovino. I'm sorry," Marcello freed the Italian from his hug. "I'm just happy to see you, is all! You're so adorable, I couldn't resist seeing you again!"

"I'm not fucking adorable!" Lovino growled.

"Yes you are!" Marcello grinned, finding joy in teasing the man.

"Fuck off!" Lovino attempted to shut the door but it was stopped by a firm palm.

"Aw, Lovino, quit being so mean~" Marcello pouted.

"Quit pouting like a fucking three year old," Lovino snorted and returned to the living room, leaving Marcello at his doorstep.

"So… can I come in?" Marcello called.

"_No!"_

"Okay!" Marcello entered the home anyway, taking in his surroundings.

"Hi, Mister Marcello," Antonio greeted from his spot on his father's lap, his words muffled from the tomato pillow he was holding.

"Hey there, little man! It's nice to see you again!"

Antonio didn't respond and simply snuggled closer to his dad, feeling the jealousy burn up inside of him. Mister Marcello was going to take his dad away and he wouldn't let him. Antonio didn't care if it took forever. He would never let his daddy leave.

"He's tired. He had a nightmare last night," Lovino placed his hand atop Antonio's head.

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry, little guy."

Antonio didn't reply.

He still didn't like the man.

"So, Lovino, when did you want to go out again?" Marcello asked, turning his attention back to the Italian and placed his hand on the latter's shoulder.

"My daddy," Antonio pushed it off, sending a glare towards the uninvited guest.

"Not anytime soon, I hope," Lovino scoffed, not even paying any heed to Antonio's attitude. "Besides, as long as Antonio has these nightmares, I can't leave him. I'm not comfortable leaving him with anyone while he's missing me."

A light bulb went off in Antonio's head.

That's it!

If he kept having those bad dreams, his dad would never have to leave again and go on those 'date' things! Then it could be just the two of them again because Marcello would get bored and leave! It was the perfect plan! Even if he didn't have those nightmares anymore, he could still _pretend _like he did.

Nonetheless, the nightmares stopped.

And Marcello and his dad become closer and closer to one another…

* * *

><p>"Ew! Papa, Marcello, you're so gross!" Antonio covered his eyes and faked a gag.<p>

Marcello and Lovino, who were in the middle of a goodbye kiss, simply chuckled at the boy's reaction. The Italian-American then made his way to Antonio, knelt down and grinned.

"But your dad is so cute, Toni!"

This earned him a firm slap to the back of his head by a certain man, "I told you, I am not fucking cute!"

"Yes he is," Marcello added in a whisper to the child (who giggled in response) and stood to take his leave.

The man strode to his car and pulled out his cell phone before climbing into the driver's seat. After dialing the number, he placed it to his ear and waited for whoever happened to be passing by the phone to pick up.

"_It's about time you called. The boss is getting tired of waiting, Marcello."_

"There's a reason he assigned me this particular job and if you or anyone else in that damn place think they can do it better than me, you are more than welcome to attempt," Marcello's voice took a sudden dark turn, losing all its perfected cheerfulness in one fell swoop. "Until then, stop fucking harassing me and tell the boss I need to speak with him. I'll be there in ten minutes."

With that, Marcello hung up, not liking the tightness welling up in his heart.

* * *

><p>"Papa, when's Mister Marcello coming back?" Antonio asked as Lovino pulled the red and green covers over his tiny frame.<p>

"I'm not sure. Maybe tomorrow. Why?" Lovino answered, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.

"Then can we go to the zoo? I want to see the bears and the lions and the monkeys and-"

"All right, _il mio piccolo pomodoro, _it's time for you to go to sleep," Lovino gave a gentle smile.

"But I'm not tired, Papa," Antonio whined playfully. "I wanna play games and watch TV!"

"But if you do that then you won't have enough energy to go to the zoo tomorrow, now will you?" Lovino challenged in the same impish manner.

"So we can go?" Antonio sat up in excitement.

"Yes. We can go."

"Yay!" Antonio bounded out from underneath the covers and jumped up and down on his bed.

"Okay, whirlwind!" Lovino grabbed the child and tickled him, smiling when Antonio's laughter rang throughout the room and set him back down on the bed again. "It's time for you to go to sleep."

"Okay, Papa," Antonio giggled and wiggled back underneath the blankets.

"Goodnight, Toni," Lovino kissed the boy's head.

"Goodnight, Papa," Antonio smiled as Lovino moved towards the door.

With one last glance, Lovino flicked off the bedroom light and closed the door, leaving only a small crack for the hall light seep through.

* * *

><p>"The prince has arrived," a man entered the office with Marcello in tow and said man scoffed.<p>

"How good of you to come, Marcello. We've been missing you," the older man said in Italian.

"Good to know," Marcello responded coolly. "By the looks of it, Cristiano has been keeping this place in fair condition considering how… laid back he is."

The man who had brought Marcello in rolled his eyes.

"Things are going well, I hope?" their leader raised an eyebrow.

Marcello was silent.

"Marcello? I asked you a question. Do you know where the money is?"

"No. I don't. And neither does Lovino," Marcello replied.

"It's been three months and you've found out nothing? What have been doing all this time? Screwing the guy, I assume?" Cristiano spat.

"Fuck off," Marcello snarled. "I'm handling this at my own pace. I have him wrapped around my finger as of the moment, don't you worry about that."

"Actually, I think he has _you _wrapped around _his _finger, Marcello," Cristiano sneered.

Marcello growled and his azure eyes became ice.

"Marcello," the gruff voice boomed and caught the young man's attention. "Is this true?"

The Italian-American was strangely silent.

"_Answer me!"_

"…it's true," Marcello lowered his head.

Cristiano openly laughed in dark humor, "I knew it! He's head over heels for Lovino like some love-struck school girl! How pathetic of you, Marcello! And here I thought you were some cold-hearted bastard who could actually get us somewhere. Guess I was wrong."

Marcello was about to give another smart remark but was interrupted by the elder in the room, "Marcello, I suggest you get your priorities in order before I straighten them out for you. Surely you haven't forgotten your real reason for doing this?"

"Brother!" the voice of a young girl cried out and Marcello's already mutilated heart weakened.

"Camille…" the brunette murmured, his voice breaking.

"You know her life is in a delicate balance—one little word is all it takes. I have a ditch with both of your names written on it and you'll be the one to decide what—or who—fills it."

"Fine! I'll do it. Just don't hurt her… please," Marcello stole a glance at his disheveled and frantic sister.

"Get the money and be rid of these wretched feelings you harbor for him," Marcello hadn't heard his leader speak to him in such a sinister tone before.

"Yes sir," Marcello nodded.

* * *

><p>"Thanks for inviting us, Feliciano and Ludwig. We had a great time," Marcello grinned.<p>

"It was no problem at all! We're glad you decided to join us! The kids seemed to have a great time, too!" Feliciano chirped happily.

"Papa, can I spend the night with them?" Antonio looked at his father from underneath the brim of the large pink hat Sienna had given him to wear that matched the pink feather boa wrapped around him.

"Not if you keep dressing up like that," Lovino took off the items and Antonio giggled. "But yes, you can stay the night."

"Thank you, Papa!" Antonio grinned.

"We'll be right back. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?" Ludwig asked.

"Of course~! You worry too much," Feliciano smiled.

Ludwig still didn't look convinced, "Maybe I should stay…"

"Then there would be no one to take _fratello _and Marcello home, silly. The kids are having a good time—we'll be okay. You take them home," Feliciano walked into the kitchen, still keeping his chipper attitude.

"We can walk. It's only thirty minutes on foot," Lovino interjected.

"It's too dangerous to walk at this time of night," Feliciano shook his head.

"Marcello will be with me," Lovino shrugged.

"Ludwig, take them home," Feliciano shot his lover a hard look.

"All right, fine," Ludwig grabbed the car keys.

Lovino then knelt in front of his son, "You be good, okay? I'll be back to pick you up in the morning and we'll have the whole day to ourselves again."

"Okay, Papa," Antonio gave his father a quick hug before running off to Sienna again. "Bye!"

The blonde German kissed his lover's head, "Lock the door."

"Of course," a small blush tinted Feliciano's cheeks.

The trio then left and Feliciano returned to the kitchen after following the blonde's request.

* * *

><p>The trill of a ringtone broke the silence.<p>

"Hello?" Marcello answered it and Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"_Is it safe to go in?"_

"Yes."

"_Are you in mixed company?"_

"Yes."

"_All right. How many inside?"_

"Three o' clock, that's right. A week from now," Marcello put on a smile to defuse Lovino's befuddled expression.

"_Three?"_

"Two kids, am I correct? I thought so. Poor things. We'll meet as soon as my vacation is over," Marcello's voice turned on a switch of sympathy.

"_Two kids—easy pickings. I assume the older brother's with you; keep him busy. I'll call you in about twenty minutes or so."_

"Thank you for calling, Mr. Biachi. I am looking forward to our meeting," Marcello hung up.

"Was that work?" Lovino asked.

"Yeah. A dad was just confirming the appointment he made to help his kids," Marcello smiled.

Lovino nodded. It was then that the Italian noticed that Ludwig was just pulling into his driveway.

"Thank you, Ludwig. We really appreciate it," Marcello grinned.

"Ja, no problem," Ludwig said.

Lovino quickly exited the car and stepped inside his house but froze inside the doorway, "Marcello!"

Said man was behind his lover in a heartbeat, "What's wrong?"

Lovino said nothing as he stared into his trashed living room.

* * *

><p>After putting up the last glass, Feliciano paused after he was certain he heard something.<p>

_Click._

_Click-click._

_Click._

…was someone picking the lock?

It didn't take the distorted image from glancing in the peep-hole to distinguish the wrenching feeling in his gut. This wouldn't end well.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Sienna's head tilted to the side.

"Sienna, I need you to be a big girl and take Antonio into your bedroom closet. Stay there and don't come out until I or your father comes to get you," Feliciano explained as calmly as he could.

"But Mommy-"

"No buts. Hurry and go hide. Do anything to keep yourselves out of sight. Go!"

Sienna took his hand and pulled the boy up the stairs and into her room, "Come on, Toni!"

Huddling into the closet, Sienna pulled down some of her clothes and barricaded themselves with stuffed animals, effectively hiding them.

Feliciano had his own hiding place, holding his breath when he heard the door open.

"Leave no stone unturned," the first man ordered harshly in Italian. "Check the kid's room first. Marcello said they're more than likely there."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the second headed up the stairs.

_Marcello's working with them? _Feliciano thought in absolute horror, accidentally bumping into the cabinet and catching the men's attention.

His heart pounded in his ears in sync with the stampede of the duo's footsteps reaching closer…

…and closer to him.

And he could only hope that the kids would remain undiscovered.


	13. Chapter 11

**Whoo! Chapter Eleven and almost to 70 reviews! Thank you so much guys! I appreciate all of the support! You have no idea how much it means to me! This chapter was fairly easy to write which is surprising being given the fact that... you know what? I'll shut up and let you guys find out what happens.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**EDIT: Scratch that, it IS 70! Thank you so much!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

"Oh shit…" Marcello trailed off, scanning the area.

Without his realizing it, Lovino walked inside only to be pulled back gently by his lover.

"Wait, I'll go," Marcello's voice sounded far too lax for Lovino's liking. But he watched the man go inside anyway, brushing off his suspicions. He was probably just tired.

"What's the matter?" Ludwig had exited the car and was making his way towards them, finding it odd that Lovino was just standing outside.

"Someone fucking trashed my house," Lovino entered the home against Marcello's request.

"Everything seems to be okay," Marcello was coming down the stairs. "I don't think anything's missing."

Lovino growled, "Damn it all."

The angered Italian decided to study the house for himself, silently fuming and cursing whoever had half the mind to do this.

_Crunch._

Lovino lifted his foot from the broken glass and picked up the picture frame as if it was fine china. It was a photo of him, Antonio, Sienna, and Feliciano on Antonio's third birthday. But Lovino was paying more attention to the cracks rather than his annoyance of breaking another household item.

The fissures went right through Feliciano's head and the kids' chests, leaving Lovino's side of the picture practically unscathed. The Italian's heart dropped to his stomach and all color depleted from his face.

No…

"What's up?" Marcello peeked over Lovino's shoulder, scrutinizing the picture as well. "Lovino? Everything okay?"

"We have to go back!" Lovino spun on his heel to face the other two men.

"What's wrong, Lovino?" Marcello wondered.

"My brother and the kids… they're in danger," Lovino replied.

"What makes you say that?" Marcello tilted his head to the side in feigned confusion.

"I just have a feeling! Are we going to go or not?" Lovino shouted.

Ludwig was already out the door, waiting for the duo inside the vehicle. And when Lovino climbed into the backseat, he could only hope he was mistaken.

Marcello flipped open his phone and typed a simple text message:

_Abort._

* * *

><p>The blonde German burst inside his home, frantically searching for the Italian he held so dear to him and the little girl that had become his world. His desperation only escalated when he caught sight of small amounts of blood staining the floor…<p>

…that led to a certain Italian lying in the kitchen.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig was at his knees beside the battered and broken young man. The blonde tenderly held his love, mindful of the dark bruises spotting his skin—the final touch to a dreadful masterpiece.

"Feliciano, wake up please…" tears began welling up in the man's oceanic orbs rippling across the surface.

Upon hearing Ludwig's pleas, Lovino clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He silently prayed for his brother to wake up… so he could see those honey eyes and blithe smile. He couldn't lose his brother. It was unthinkable.

"L-Ludwig…" Feliciano choked and said man let out an audible sigh of relief. "The kids…"

Feliciano's breathing was labored.

"Are they all right?" Lovino fretted. "Where are they?"

"Bedroom c-closet…"

Lovino didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

><p>"I-I want my daddy…" Antonio sniffled, wiping away his tears.<p>

"It'll be okay, Toni. Don't worry. I'm sure my mommy or daddy will be here," Sienna whispered, trying to remain optimistic and brave just like Feliciano had told her to.

Antonio's whimpers intensified in volume.

"Toni? Sienna?"

"That sounds like Papa…" Antonio lifted his head and some stray tears slipped down his rosy cheeks.

"It's okay to come out now," Lovino's voice wavered in what seemed to be lost hope.

Abandoning all hesitation, Antonio threw the door open and lunged into Lovino's open arms.

"Daddy!" he cried. "Daddy! Daddy!"

The Italian kept the boy close, kissing his head and murmuring in his native language, "It's okay. I'm here now. Don't cry."

"_Zio _Lovi!" Sienna ran up to the man and hugged his leg.

"Thank God you're both okay," Lovino's heart was no longer pounding violently against his ribcage.

"Is Mommy okay?" Sienna asked in the softest whisper.

But all Lovino did was take Sienna's hand and carried Antonio down the stairs. And the girl's expression when she laid eyes on her injured parent melted even the coldest of hearts.

"Mommy! Those bad men hurt you!" Sienna sniveled.

However, all Feliciano could manage was a pained smile before losing his grip and falling into the darkness that held onto him so tightly.

* * *

><p>Ludwig paced… paced… and paced. The anxiety was itching at him and he could no longer sit still. Not that the others paid any mind; they were busy worrying about Feliciano themselves.<p>

When the doctor exited the room, Lovino all but jumped out of his chair due to Antonio sleeping peacefully in his arms. Ludwig halted mid-step and waited with bated breath to hear the best… or worst.

"Mr. Vargas has stabilized. His only major injury was the blow to his head—there was some brain swelling but it has lessened. However, he will be unconscious for a few days. If he wakes up at all tomorrow he's a real trooper. You can go in and see him but keep it short. He needs rest," the doctor then left the group to their own devices.

When inside the room, time seemed to cease to flow. The young Italian was nearly bandaged from head to toe and a cast covered his right leg. Gauze tinged pink that crept its way towards the front from the blood beginning to seep through was the indication of the head injury the doctor spoke of.

Sienna placed her hand atop Feliciano's, shuddering at how frigid his was compared to hers, "Mommy?"

"He's sleeping," Ludwig placed his hands on the girl's shoulders to bring her comfort.

"W-When will he wake up?" Sienna hiccupped, struggling to speak past the large lump in her throat.

Ludwig sighed and the girl turned around to look at her blonde father, "Daddy?"

"I don't know when he'll wake up. But I'm sure he'll wake up soon," Ludwig lifted the girl in his arms when she reached out to him and cried softly on his shoulder, pleading for Feliciano to awaken.

Marcello felt his stone heart break.

He couldn't bring himself to cause this family anymore pain.

But his sister…

He had to protect her!

He'd made that promise to his parents when they were murdered by the very people forcing him to do this. His sister was his first and foremost priority. There was nothing else to consider. Whether he loved Lovino or not, it didn't matter.

All he had to do was keep this façade up for a while longer. He could see that Lovino still didn't completely trust him even after being together for now longer than three months. And he needed to tear down that guard. He wouldn't find out where the inheritance money was without completing this task first.

He had to extinguish these petty feelings.

Lovino and Antonio were nothing to him.

Nothing but the dirt from the ground which he walked on.

"Marcello?" Lovino could sense the man's tension. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. I'm going to get some fresh air. I'll be back in a minute," Marcello placed a soft kiss on the Italian's head and exited.

What was his deal?

Marcello sure was acting strange lately…

Maybe it was work that was stressing him out. He did make regular trips back and forth from home.

"Papa, I have to go to the bathroom…" Antonio muttered, still half-asleep.

"Okay," Lovino nodded, walking down the hall opposite his mysterious and obviously frazzled boyfriend.

* * *

><p>He felt… heavy.<p>

Yet, light as a feather.

It was as if he was floating.

Honey eyes fluttered open, hazily scanning the room. The owner of such eyes grunted in pain, having been caught unprepared to brace himself when it slammed against him. The dryness and metallic taste of blood in his mouth made his stomach lurch.

"Feliciano?" a deep and garbled voice called out to him.

He winced as he made an attempt to sit up but a firm hand on his chest made him stay.

"Don't move so much. You'll open your wounds again," the voice now sounded closer and became clearer which frightened him.

His vision was failing to focus on whoever was speaking to him and his heart thundered in his ears, the pain pulsating from the back of his head made him want the darkness to swallow him up as it did before.

"Mommy?" this voice was different and much higher in pitch. He could make out the jumbled mess of red curls that was her hair and the desperation illustrated in her electric blue eyes.

Mommy?

Why…?

Why was this little girl calling him… mommy?

Who was she?

His vision finally clearing, he immediately noticed the tall blonde man and the little girl that was being held in his arms.

Who were they?

And where was he?

From the powerful stench of medicine and uncomfortable bed, it could only mean that he had been admitted to a hospital. In another attempt to sit up, Feliciano searched for a familiar face while ignoring the pain shooting through his body. He kept searching… but found none.

"Feliciano?" it was the first voice he heard.

"Y-Yes?" the Italian rasped, confusion shining in his eyes. "H-How do you know my name? Who are you?"

Ludwig honestly thought the sleep deprivation was causing him to hear things.

"Mommy?" Sienna took a step forward but caught Ludwig shaking his head at her.

The German, now realizing that Feliciano was genuinely confused, struggled to keep himself in check—the Italian didn't know either of them.

"Where's my brother? Where's Lovino?" Feliciano was inwardly beginning to panic.

If he was in the hospital then something might've happened to Lovino as well!

"It's okay, Feliciano. Don't worry," Ludwig's voice was calm though it betrayed the raging hurricane that was his heart. "I'll go get him."

Even when the unfamiliar man and child had left, Feliciano couldn't control his rising panic.

What had happened?

Why was he in the hospital?

Nothing made sense!

In his upset, Feliciano bowed his head, his auburn hair acting as a veil for the glistening tears trailing down his face.

Just outside the room, Ludwig had caught Lovino just as the Italian and his son were returning from the cafeteria on the first floor. Wondering why the German was standing in the middle of the hallway, Lovino paused, silently questioning the man.

"Feliciano's awake," Ludwig said.

"Then why the long face? I figured you'd be the least bit happy," Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"Mommy's acting funny," Sienna chimed in, her small voice barely carrying itself.

"Acting funny how?"

"Amnesia," was all Ludwig could say.

"Amnesia? And the doctor told us nothing of this possibility?" Lovino nearly growled in the back of his throat.

"He's asking for you. You're the only one who can calm him at this point," Ludwig's voice was monotone and expression blank. "I'll go get the doctor."

Ludwig brushed past him, telling Sienna that they would be visiting Feliciano in a few moments. Not hesitating for another minute, Lovino and Antonio entered Feliciano's room and the younger Italian visibly relaxed once seeing his brother alive and well.

"_Fratello! _You're okay!"

"Of course I am," Lovino sat Antonio down on the maroon leather chair in the corner of the room before approaching Feliciano. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" Feliciano looked bashful for making such an assumption. "I thought because I was in the hospital something might've happened to you, too."

"Silly Feli," Lovino mussed his brother's mop of auburn hair. "You shouldn't assume."

Feliciano cringed when Lovino raised his hand—he thought his older brother would hit him and call him an idiot as per usual. He was shocked to see his brother acting so docile. Why had he changed so suddenly?

Antonio simply watched the adults as his father asked him to do. Sienna was right. Uncle Feli sure was acting funny. He hadn't even greeted him with lots of hugs.

_Maybe he's sick, _Antonio thought.

"Why am I in the hospital, _fratello?" _Feliciano wondered.

"You were attacked by some men," Lovino replied.

"Do you know why they did it?"

"No."

"Oh… so… who was that man and little girl? They both seemed so sad when I asked who they were. And the little girl called me 'mommy.' Why did she? Last I checked, I was still a boy," Feliciano felt his chest to double check his gender.

Yup.

Still a man.

So why…?

"It's because she's your daughter. You and Ludwig, the man you saw earlier, adopted her when she was two years old," Lovino couldn't help but think that it was odd he wasn't calling the German "potato-bastard."

"How old is she? She looks a lot bigger than two," Feliciano had slipped up and asked the question in Italian.

"She's six," Lovino said in the same language. "She calls you 'mom' and Ludwig 'dad.'"

"But if she does that then that means Ludwig and I are…"

"Lovers," Lovino nodded.

"Why don't I remember them? I don't understand…! How can I forget my own family?" Feliciano continued speaking in Italian because of his own distress.

Ludwig.

Sienna.

Those names sounded so familiar…

Why couldn't he remember? He drew a blank card every time!

"Your memories will come to you soon enough—don't strain yourself. Right now, you need to focus on getting better," Lovino sighed.

Feliciano was thrown for a loop again. He wasn't used to his brother being so calm… or have a censored mouth for that matter. At any other time, his older brother would be spouting curse after curse while trying to refrain from tracking down whoever had hurt his beloved younger sibling.

"Papa?"

Lovino turned his head in response to face the brunette child advancing towards him.

Now Feliciano was _really _confused!

Since when was Lovino a father? While his thoughts were buzzing around like aggravated bees in his head, Feliciano watched his brother reach for something on the floor—it was a small Ziploc bag filled with fruit snacks—and hand it to the boy. Lovino then lifted the child onto his lap seeing that Antonio had no desire to return to the isolated chair in the back of the room.

"_Fratello, _who is… is that?"

"This is my son, Antonio. You've met before," Lovino answered.

Yet another memory he couldn't get ahold of. Why was this so difficult?

"Hi, _Zio _Feli," Antonio was pulling out a grape flavored fruit snack from the clear bag.

"_Ciao, _Antonio," Feliciano smiled and then a thought occurred to him. "Where is Big Brother Antonio, _fratello?"_

"Well, he…" Feliciano noticed the darker look in his brother's eyes. "He died in a car accident, Feli. Three years ago."

Lovino watched carefully for Feliciano's reaction, ready for anything possible.

"I-I didn't know that…" Feliciano bit his lip.

Of course he didn't know that!

He couldn't remember anything else… why would this be any different?

"I know you didn't," Lovino wasn't making eye contact.

Quiet knocks and the door clicking open drew the attention of the trio in the room. The two now known as Sienna and Ludwig were being followed by the doctor.

"Good to see you awake, Mr. Vargas. You've been unconscious for over a week. You were giving us quite the scare," the doctor smiled to try and disarm the bedridden man.

It didn't work.

"Sorry," was the Italian's hushed reply.

"So Feliciano, I've been told you're having trouble remembering things. This is correct, yes?"

"Yes. Everything's such a blur," Feliciano nodded.

"I see. Well this is a result from the blow to your head but I assume you already know that. We've been running tests and the swelling in your brain has disappeared and returned to normal. Only time will tell if you'll get your memories back—but I'm almost positive you will," the doctor's explanation for the most part as he checked Feliciano's vitals.

Feliciano was concentrating on the duo sitting in the back of the room. He watched them just as they were watching him.

"Call if you have any problems, okay?"

"Thank you, Doctor," Ludwig said and the man left.

Sienna had taken this opportunity to squirm out of her father's lap and go sit with her other parent. The girl climbed hastily onto the bed and Feliciano jumped a bit in surprise.

"Sienna-" Ludwig started, not certain as to how Feliciano would react.

"It's fine, Ludwig," Feliciano gave a small wave as reassurance.

"Mommy?" Sienna touched Feliciano's face with the palm of her tiny hand.

Taking that smaller hand, the Italian immediately recognized the warmth that was so foreign to him. He knew this child yet did not know her.

But it was now his goal to know his family again—to _truly _know them—and hopefully restore what they once had.

* * *

><p>Feliciano was released three days later, surprisingly eager to return home and learn about the life he had been living. It intrigued him greatly and he had down the doctor's suggestion to stay at Lovino's. How else would he know his family if he would be sheltered away from them?<p>

"Mommy, when we get home, Daddy and I are going to make the best lunch ever! The food in that place was icky! Right Daddy?" Sienna was holding the blonde's hand while Feliciano hopped around on crutches. Her eyes sparkled as she waited for an answer.

"That's right," Ludwig nodded while helping Feliciano into the car.

"Mommy, you can help, too!" Sienna climbed into the backseat.

"I'd love to help," Feliciano smiled.

"Yay!"

Lovino stopped Ludwig just as the German was rounding the vehicle to get to the driver's side and the blonde questioned the shorter man by raising an eyebrow.

"You'd better take care of him," Lovino glared.

"I always do," Ludwig nodded before stepping out of the way.

"Papa, where's Marcello?" Antonio tugged on the hem of Lovino's jeans.

"He's probably at his house or something," Lovino shrugged.

"Oh okay. Can we go over to Uncle Feli's house later?"

"I think we'd better let him rest for the day. I'm sure he'll be plenty busy," Lovino took the boy's hand as they headed to their car. "How about we get some gelato instead?"

"Yeah!" Antonio cheered.

* * *

><p>"What happened?" the old man growled. "Where are the kids?"<p>

"We couldn't get to them in time. Lovino and his friends were on their way back before we could get Feliciano to tell us anything," one bowed his head in shame.

"You _fucking _idiots!" Marcello barked. "Feliciano's not dead. You weren't even supposed to be considering it! Killing Feliciano would've been devastating to my assignment!"

"This mission is failing because of _your _own decisions, Marcello," Cristiano spat. "Giving into your own desires is putting yourself before family. And _that _is the worst mistake you could ever make in your entire life."

"Family comes before anyone else," the second man, Saverio, added.

"I'm sure I could do a much better job than you," Cristiano mocked while slowly circling the Italian-American. "And I would find out where the money was in a week's time—then get rid of him and the kid. I might even squeeze in a good fuck-"

He didn't get the chance to finish for he was suddenly staring down the barrel of a .45 and Marcello's death glare—but the man at gunpoint didn't even bat an eye. Instead, Cristiano pressed his forehead to the barrel.

"Do you really have the guts to shoot me down?" he challenged. "I say you don't."

Marcello's finger was coming dangerously close to the trigger.

"Go on," Cristiano smirked. "Pull the trigger."

Marcello then felt something prodding into his stomach. It was Cristiano's own gun.

"Let's see how fast you really are—I hear nothing but wonderful things about you. I have yet to see it. Prove me wrong."

Marcello's fingertip brushed the trigger, the temptation eating at him, "If you so much as touch them…"

"Or what? You'll kill me?" Cristiano brought the gun up to Marcello's chest.

"Boys, enough. Put your toys away," the old man tapped his cigar in the ash tray.

The "boys" did as told.

"Marcello," the elder's voice took a dark turn. "You have kept me waiting with little progress. Finish this—do _not _disappoint me. You have two weeks before I take matters into my own hands."

"I understand," Marcello nodded and headed out the building to Lovino's house.


	14. Chapter 12

**Okay, so this chapter was written in a single day (that's surprisingly fast for me). It'll probably seemed rushed- and I apologize if it does- but I didn't want to give you guys more fillers or spend too much time on Feliciano's memory loss. This story focuses mainly on Antonio and Lovino (even though I know it's important for other characters to develop too) but I just couldn't help but get to the climax of the story. So yes, there are a few time skips in here.**

**I hope you enjoy anyway. **

**Your reviews are love! I get so exicted when I read one! They leave me all happy and jittery inside! Thank you all _so _much!**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

Bright amber orbs studied the room with interest and utmost curiosity. He scrutinized every picture he could get his lithe hands on, imprinting the captured memory into his mind so he could fix this broken puzzle. Maybe… just maybe… if he looked at all the pictures it'll give him some kind of hint about the life he lost. Even though it had been just three days after arriving at the house he shared with his family, he had learned so much.

"This is me and you, Mommy. Daddy took this picture," Sienna pointed to another photograph.

Feliciano read the tab underneath: _"Sienna Comes Home."_

He looked at himself again.

He was so happy.

That was unmistakable.

Trying to imagine this scene playing out in his head turned out to be just as tiring as lugging himself around on those blasted crutches all day. Of course, he wouldn't let anyone know that. Feliciano wanted to be productive and help out around the house but the crutches and still sensitive wounds proved to be more than just a nuisance. Ludwig, on the other hand, was doing an excellent job of taking care of him and Sienna all at once. The blonde seemed far from stressed out—but Feliciano could tell that there was originally a sparkle in those cerulean eyes. That light was gone—why?

Where did it go?

It was clearly there in the photographs from the album. He even saw a ghost of a smile in one picture.

Now, only three days since being brought back home, it never once revealed itself.

He… wanted to see it.

But how could he get the man to smile?

"Sienna, it's time to go," Ludwig already had the car keys in his hand and was heading towards the door.

"Okay," the strawberry-blonde girl placed a tender kiss on Feliciano's cheek before grabbing her princess backpack and went to her father.

Ludwig paused when Feliciano hadn't moved, "Do you need help standing?"

"Huh? Feliciano blinked and then understood what Ludwig meant, "Oh! I think I'll sit this one out."

"I'd feel more comfortable if you went with me," the German said. "The last time I left you here alone things didn't turn out so well."

"I'll be fine—besides, my leg hurts so I probably won't be doing much moving around," Feliciano offered a grin.

Ludwig wasn't fazed.

He had seen that look before—that grin.

Its purpose was to disarm him and make him believe that everything would be fine. And Ludwig was foolish enough to believe it last time… well, he wouldn't be making the same mistake twice. That was absolute.

"Feliciano, I really would feel ten times better if you came along. I've never liked leaving you here alone," Ludwig pushed back the strands of hair falling into his face.

"Ludwig," there it was again. _That _smile. The one that made him fall for the Italian in the first place. "Sienna will be late for school if you don't hurry. It's just ten minutes into town. What could happen in ten minutes?"

_You'd be surprised, _Ludwig thought morbidly.

"Take Sienna to school. I'll be right here when you get back," Feliciano attempted at convincing the man for the third time. "I promise."

"Feliciano—"

"Ludwig," the Italian interrupted him. "I'll be okay. Just take Sienna to school. I really don't feel like going anywhere at the moment."

The German sighed.

Feliciano could be just as stubborn as Lovino sometimes.

And it's not like he'd drag the man into the car. Without his memories, anything said or done that was too sudden could ruin Feliciano's muddled perspective of his life. Ludwig had to ease his lover back into this. He had to let the Italian know that there was evident trust between the two of them. By not letting Feliciano stay here alone, the man must've assumed Ludwig didn't trust him.

Heaving another sigh, Ludwig continued, "I'll lock the door behind me so you won't have to get up. Call me if anything goes wrong. _Anything, _Feliciano."

"_Si! _I promise!" the Italian nodded quickly. "I'll be right here in this very spot when you get back! Unless I have to go to the bathroom."

There.

A smile.

It was unnoticeable if one wasn't paying attention but Feliciano managed to catch it creeping along the blonde's face.

A simple falter in a frown that had been a constant feature on Ludwig's face was now outshone in an instant. Feliciano didn't know why the man didn't smile more often—it made him look very handsome, more so than he already was. It also brought Feliciano such joy to see it. It brought warmth and comfort—two things he had yet to fully grab hold of.

Sure, this was his family but he didn't know them as he should've. That painful fact made his heart clench horribly. His mind didn't remember but his heart certainly did.

The German finally left Feliciano to his own devices and the Italian took this chance to examine the photo album at his own pace and try to remember bit by tiny bit. He turned to the first page and the very first photograph was of a man and woman… and what seemed to be their wedding.

The olive-skinned man with dark brunette hair and emerald eyes was their father—strong, independent and ever-absent. That man was supposed to be the foundation for their family, like the glue that kept them together; someone who could be looked up to for protection. He ended up being a wrecking ball, taking a hammer to their happy memories and destroying them without a second thought.

Now their mother, dressed in white with auburn curls, honey eyes, and crème skin, was their everything. She was an angel and a warrior, defending her sons with all she had. That woman, who had a mellifluous voice to sing lullabies every night and leave butterfly kisses on their foreheads, could dispel her sons' fears of monsters and anything that went bump in the night.

But by the hands of the man that helped conceive them, her lullabies, gentle kisses and strong hugs were stolen away. That man had an accomplice—a thief no one could catch. The thief known as Death took their angel from them soaked in blood and clipped feathers. Touching the picture, Feliciano could see the knife glinting in the light… the knife that was meant for him and Lovino but had been aimed at their mother instead…

No longer able to bear it, Feliciano flipped the pages until he arrived at one of him and Lovino sitting on the floor playing a board game. Feliciano was grinning wildly. Lovino, however, didn't even attempt a smile. The purple shade surrounding his left eye and his busted lip gave him reason enough not to. Underneath the blue jeans and long-sleeved spice brown shirt, Feliciano knew there were more splotches of purple marring his brother's skin.

Feliciano, remembering the black eye and swollen lip were from their father learning that Lovino had fallen in love with Antonio at fifteen, instantly wished he had done more to help. Since his father favored him over his brother, he might've been able to assuage Lovino's beatings. But Lovino made him promise to never get involved. The older Italian had said he would rather receive the punishment than Feliciano. A noble but risky sacrifice.

The youngest Italian often tried to convince their mother to leave but she had said they had nowhere to go. As punishment for running away and getting pregnant at such a young age, their grandfather, Roma, had ultimately rejected the entire family.

Feliciano turned the page before he delved into another horrid memory. But it was no longer photographs of that dreadful childhood. This time, the atmosphere was light with a clear and bright future ahead of the duo in the picture. He finally realized the couple in the photograph was him and Ludwig.

The Italian was grinning as usual and hugging Ludwig while the blonde embraced Feliciano. There was a sliver of a smile but his oceanic eyes spoke volumes.

"_First Date," _Feliciano read the tab aloud.

He browsed through a few more pages; most of them random shots of either him or Ludwig or a landscape Feliciano had found beauty in. There were even some scattered pictures of Lovino and Antonio. The Italian was of course scowling but stood still for the picture to appease the Spaniard beside him.

Feliciano couldn't help but chuckle.

Turning a few more pages, he came to what he assumed was a more recent part of his life: adopting Sienna. The child with strawberry-blonde curls and electric blue eyes was definitely shy from what he could tell by the photographs. She hardly turned around to completely face the camera but peeked out from underneath her strands of hair.

She looked just like a combination of him and Ludwig…

How fitting.

But as the years went on, Sienna began to crawl further and further out of her protective shell and she even grinned at one point. Feliciano felt tears prick his eyes as he ghosted his fingers along the lost moments. Because, that's all they were: moments lost that he would probably never get back.

He wanted them…

…_coveted _them.

He wanted to remember it all.

* * *

><p>In the two weeks since Feliciano's release, Marcello had been absent from Antonio and Lovino's lives. There wasn't a single call, a single text message… nothing. Being the curious creature he was, Lovino of course wanted to find out what the hell was going on. But his ego wouldn't allow him to call first—he didn't want to sound desperate (not that he was).<p>

The Italian-American hadn't even stuck around to see if Feliciano made it out okay.

Jerk…

Antonio had definitely taken notice of the absent parent figure he had in his life but refused to question about it. He was just fine with it being him and his father doing things together. The boy still hadn't forgiven Marcello for taking his daddy away on some nights and leaving him.

Watching his son play, Lovino couldn't help the queasiness beginning to take over him.

Why did he have such a feeling?

Perhaps it was some bad food.

* * *

><p>"So I've missed all of this?" Feliciano was seated beside Ludwig on the couch and he was once again searching through the pictures to find some sort of clue.<p>

"Yes," Ludwig nodded.

"I hate this… I hate… not remembering… it hurts," Feliciano mumbled as he stared at a picture of Sienna in a pink dress with flower imprints.

"Don't worry, Feliciano. You'll remember. Sienna loves you no less with or without you remembering," Ludwig tried to console the fretful Italian.

"Do… do you still love me?" Feliciano couldn't stop himself from asking the question. It was as if some part of him wanted to—no, _needed _to know.

If the answer was no…

Feliciano just might die.

"Yes," Ludwig said and was taken aback by how suddenly Feliciano had hugged him since there had been little to no physical contact between the two of them in the last fourteen days.

Feliciano inhaled deeply, taking in the German's scent. It was foreign but he loved it almost automatically. He didn't know why he was hugging the man—they hardly knew each other. But it felt so right, so natural.

Then, as he released the blonde, Feliciano asked, "Where's _fratello? _I've hardly seen him."

"Oh he's probably with Marcello."

"Marcello?" Feliciano tilted his head. "Who's that?"

"Lovino's new boyfriend. He's from America but was born here in Italy. I've never liked him much. He's too… perfect if you ask me," Ludwig explained and caught a different light in Feliciano's eyes.

The light of recognition.

The light of realization.

…the light of fear.

"No…" Feliciano choked, the memories slamming into him like a sledgehammer.

The break in, the beating… Marcello's affiliation with the enemy, whoever the enemy may be. He had to warn Lovino! This may be their only chance!

"Feliciano, what's wrong?" the German wondered, not liking his lover's expression one bit.

"We have to go to my brother's!" Feliciano tried standing without his crutches and nearly toppled over. Ludwig, luckily, had caught the young Italian.

"Why? Feliciano, what's going on?"

"He and Antonio are in danger! We have to go! Marcello is working with the men that broke in a while back!" Feliciano said in one single breath, tugging the German along while hobbling on one good leg.

A rage Feliciano had never seen flashed in Ludwig's ocean eyes.

* * *

><p>Antonio's head perked to attention at the sound, "Papa, can I answer the door?"<p>

Mulling over it, Lovino nodded, "Sure, go ahead."

The boy, feeling like a big kid who could do things by himself, ran to the door and opened it, his eyebrows rising in surprise at who it was. "Mister Marcello!"

"Hey there, champ!" the Italian-American lifted the boy into his arms and spun themselves around in a small circle.

"Where did you go, Marcello? You were gone for a long time," Antonio's eyes were glistening with curiosity.

"I had some work to take care of but I finally managed to make it back," Marcello set the boy to the floor. "I'm sorry for being gone for so long. Where's your dad, squirt?"

"I think he's making dinner," Antonio replied, leading the man into the kitchen where Lovino was indeed stirring the noodles inside a large pot.

The Italian, however, paid no attention to who had arrived.

"Lovino?" Marcello called and received the cold shoulder. He sighed and offered an apologetic smile. "Oh come on, Lovino, don't be like that. I had work to catch up with. I couldn't call you at all."

"Antonio, how much tomato sauce do you want?" Lovino overlooked Marcello completely.

"A lot!" Antonio grinned. "But I won't get it everywhere this time—promise!"

"Yeah, yeah, you said that last time," Lovino smiled and returned to his task of cooking.

Antonio giggled and rushed back into the living room with his toys.

"Lovino," Marcello said.

"What do you want?"

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"This is coming from the guy who didn't speak to us for over two weeks," Lovino glanced from the corner of his eye.

"I told you I had to work. I couldn't call you."

"But what about the other times you had to go? You called then," Lovino said tersely.

"My schedule was busy," Marcello ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry."

"You don't apologize to me. You apologize to my son who's in the next room. He's been asking for you, believe it or not. He missed you—I don't want someone who's going to be walking in and out of my kid's life. You're either here or you're not and when you're not, you call."

"All right, Lovino. I really am sorry…" Marcello now looked like a kicked puppy. _"Ti amo."_

Lovino raised an eyebrow but caved anyway, _"Ti amo."_

Marcello returned back into the living room after kissing Lovino on the cheek and had played with Antonio until Lovino had called them to eat.

* * *

><p>"So Lovino…" Marcello pushed his plate forward, not even halfway done.<p>

"Yes?"

"I've been curious about your family. We've been dating for six months and I haven't even met your parents. Isn't it only polite that I have the honor of meeting them?" Marcello folded his hands on the table.

"You can't. They're gone," Lovino replied, unable to say the word 'dead.'

"Oh… I see. I'm sorry. I know how you feel," Marcello offered a smile. "But no other parental figures? Grandparents? Aunts? Uncles?"

"No, no one. Just a grandfather who didn't even want us. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?" Lovino's eyes narrowed.

"Just for curiosity's sake," Marcello raised his hands in a placating gesture. "So about your grandfather… I assume he's dead, too?"

"Yeah. He passed away when I was seventeen and Feliciano was sixteen. He left us some inheritance money but I have no clue where that is," Lovino rambled out the last part without really meaning to.

There was a dark look in Marcello's bright eyes, "I see."

Some tomato sauce flew through the air and landed on Lovino's cheek and Antonio was no doubt the culprit by how madly he was giggling.

"And you said you wouldn't get it everywhere," Lovino took his napkin and wiped at Antonio's face that was covered in red sauce and also at the single spot on his own face that had been stained.

Antonio gave an impish grin as his father cleaned his face but then he, like his dad, had a confused expression when Marcello suddenly stood and headed for the door.

"You're leaving?" Lovino guessed.

"No, someone's just here to see me," the reply was curt.

"Do you know who it is, Papa?" Antonio asked.

"No I don't. But I'll give him a few minutes," Lovino removed some sauce that had ended up behind Antonio's ears. "How in the heck did you get it all the way back here?"

"I dunno," Antonio shrugged.

Those few minutes quickly escalated into five… then ten… then at nearly fifteen, Lovino stood from his chair, telling Antonio to stay put.

"Marcello, who is at the door?" Lovino asked but stopped short as he saw the long and narrow weapon aimed at him. Its sleek black form shone in the light and glinted dangerously.

The man's finger brushed the trigger, his blue eyes unforgiving, "I'm sorry, _mi amore."_

_BANG!_

The green-eyed Italian toppled to the floor, the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears. The searing flame in his chest intensified where the bullet had hit and the coppery taste of blood was already gurgling its way up his throat. Gasping for air, Lovino struggled to sit up but all strength had been drained from his limbs.

Marcello, gun in hand, merely stared at the Italian writhing on the floor.

"Papa!" Antonio sprinted to his injured parent.

"Antonio… run…" Lovino managed to rasp.

The boy was crying hysterically, his tears mixing with the pool of blood on the carpet, "Papa! Papa! Get up, Papa! Get up! Please!"

Marcello grabbed the back of the boy's shirt, allowing him to flail uselessly in the air and smirked menacingly. The old, cheerful Marcello no longer existed—he had never existed.

"You know, Lovino, this could've gone much smoother if you had just told me where your grandfather's inheritance is," Marcello sighed in feigned sympathy over Antonio's wails.

Lovino reached out weakly for his son, "G-Give him back, you bastard! H-He's just a boy!"

"Then where would your motivation come from?" Marcello laughed. "Besides, it's much more fun like this."

Lovino spit some blood at Marcello's feet and growled.

"Look, it's simple. Bring your grandfather's inheritance money to the plaza. You have one week from the time I walk out this door. If you don't have the money, your kid had better know how to swim. After all, I think of him as my own son. It would be a shame if I had to hurt him," Marcello snickered while looking at Antonio as if the boy was nothing but a scrap of meat for the dogs.

"Help, Papa, I'm scared!" Antonio cried.

"Toni…" Lovino strained to stand, "You son of a bitch, let him go!"

"Bring the money and the kid is spared. If you don't, well, the result is imminent."

And then, just like that, Lovino's very purpose for living had been taken away from him.


	15. Chapter 13

**Yes, this chapter is fairly short. Why? I don't know. My writing desire is a little low. I've been reading more (don't ask). So! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around! I know I don't reply to reviews (life is killer) but just rest assured that I read and appreciate every single one of them! Not one goes unnoticed. I hope you enjoy this short little chapter.**

**Happy reading!**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

_**/96 hours, 15 minutes\**_

Bright lights.

Unbearable stench.

Pain.

So much pain.

It burned…!

He grunted and stirred, groaning at the agony igniting in his chest.

The gun.

Marcello.

Toni.

Antonio!

Emerald eyes shot open, frazzled and desperate. Feliciano jumped from his chair and it clattered to the floor. The Italian watched his brother with fretful amber orbs.

"_Fratello?" _Feliciano took his brother's hand and noticed how much the man was trembling.

"Where am I?" Lovino rasped, scanning the room for any sort of clue. And most of all, he searched for the boy he now considered his son. "Where am I? Where's Antonio?" Lovino was sitting up now despite Feliciano's protests for him to keep still.

"_Fratello—"_

"Where is he, Feliciano? Please tell me he's with you!" Lovino was only slightly coherent and Feliciano could see it in his brother's eyes.

The older Italian was hoping that this was all a dream—a brutal nightmare that he was now awaking from and Antonio was safe just as he had been. But when Feliciano shook his head, Lovino felt his world crash down.

The pain.

It was so familiar he should've almost considered it his friend. But the numbness that came shortly after Antonio's death did not make itself known this time around. It had fled and his injured heart slammed against his ribcage and it time it beat against his chest, a tear slipped down his cheek.

As an attempt to compose himself, Lovino clenched the sheets and sniffled quietly.

Antonio was gone.

_Gone._

Once again, Lovino had let him go.

He had let the Spaniard down again!

Why couldn't he ever do anything right?

_Why!_

He hated this!

He hated these tears rolling down his face.

At what point did he have the right to shed such tears?

He _didn't _have the right.

Why would he if he broke yet another promise?

He was supposed to protect Antonio, not hurt him.

He had failed.

As his friend, as his guardian… as his father.

Feliciano watched his brother, not really knowing whether to comfort him or leave the man be. The latter was probably best since Feliciano didn't know _exactly _what to say that would console him. He couldn't say that he could relate. That would be a straight lie—he and Ludwig had sent Sienna to stay with Gilbert until this whole fiasco was over and done with so they _wouldn't _have to experience the pain Lovino was going through.

He could only pray that Antonio was safe.

But at this point, most prayers seemed to be left unanswered.

* * *

><p>He cowered in the corner of the room, eyes swollen and cheeks stained with tears. His tiny body shuddered with hunger and whimpered when his stomach growled. The small rations of bread and water he had been given just weren't enough and it was meant to last him throughout most of the day. He had been shoved in this room and forgotten.<p>

The room was cold and damp with only a single light fixture on the ceiling to give the area an eerie orange glow. Every now and then a rat would scurry across the floor and he would have to quickly grab the bread to try and save it lest he be without food for the next day or two.

He was occasionally taken out to use the restroom every few hours or so.

Speaking of that… he had to go right now.

Antonio was forced to hold it though. Marcello wouldn't be coming through those doors for probably another hour. Shivering from small breeze that flowed in from the broken window, Antonio curled even further into his safe little corner, hiding his face in his hands.

His clothes, although damp, smelled of home.

The amazing food, tomatoes, his room… his dad.

He thought about all the times he had misbehaved and disappointed his father. He was regretting it all. Now, there was a strong possibility that he would never see the Italian again.

It was dark and cold and lonely.

Just like his nightmares.

All he wanted was to go home and have his dad hold him close.

He knew that wouldn't happen though.

But he could hope…

…right?

The door opened and let in a harsh bright light that Antonio cringed from. The man standing in the doorjamb simply said, "Bathroom break."

Antonio shakily rose to his feet, his body weak from hunger and exhaustion. He was grabbed roughly by said man and dragged to the filthy bathroom just outside the room he was staying in. The boy could immediately tell that this man was not Marcello—he didn't need his eyes to adjust to the blinding light to know this.

But strangely enough, Antonio missed the exuberant blue eyed man. Where was he? All Antonio wanted was to see a familiar face and whether said face had lost all cheerfulness and had transformed into a baleful expression mattered not.

He was shoved none too gently into the bathroom and was allowed to handle his business in private. Finishing, Antonio was stepping up on the small stool to help him reach the sink when he heard chatter outside his door and he paused to listen.

"…but the boss told me to look after the brat."

"You're version of 'looking after' and mine are completely different. So leave the kid alone and go do something useful. I'll take it from here."

That sounded like… Marcello.

Antonio couldn't help the fear bubbling inside his stomach.

He didn't know what to expect.

But he could only expect the worst.

* * *

><p>"How long was I out?" Lovino questioned after composing himself.<p>

"Three days. Why?" Feliciano said.

Lovino was silent.

"_Fratello? _What's the matter?"

"We have four days to figure out where Grandpa's inheritance money is…" Lovino murmured, talking more to himself than to Feliciano.

The younger Italian heard every word of it, however.

"Those guys are after Grandpa's inheritance? Why? Where is it?"

"Feliciano, if I knew the answer to that, things would be going so much smoother," the venom practically dripped from Lovino's words. Then he sighed. "Sorry."

Feliciano shrugged.

"I assume you don't know where it is either?"

Feliciano shook his head, "No one does. It might be in the bank but Grandpa's never really trusted banks. He might've hid it somewhere."

"That or he had it buried with him," Lovino's comment was snide and caught Feliciano's attention.

"That's a possibility."

"So what're we going to do? Go dig up Grandpa's grave? We'd get arrested for it and the last thing I need is time wasted," Lovino said. "We only have four days. Look, I don't care what we have to do or who we have to piss off—Grandpa hid that money somewhere and we need to find it. Now."


	16. Chapter 14

**I honestly don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I haven't been able to write a full fledged chapter for a while. I don't know why, though. I guess I'm just tired. I don't know. Gah. Anyway, hope you enjoy this short little chapter. I honestly tried to reach at least 2,000 words but my brain isn't working properly I guess. Plus, it just seemed right to end it where I ended it.**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

_**/72 hours, 9 minutes\**_

"_Papa, Papa! Look what I found!" Antonio came running into the house, holding something in his hands, desperate to locate his father._

"_What's wrong, Toni?" Lovino called back from the kitchen._

"_This baby birdie is hurt!" Antonio turned heel and almost tripped in doing so. Showing the injured bird to the Italian, he didn't even bother wiping away the tears pricking his eyes. "We have to help it! Please, Papa!"_

"_Let's see…" Lovino sat down and held out his much larger hand where Antonio gingerly placed it. "Its wing seems to be broken but not in any real danger."_

"_Can we help it, Papa?" Antonio wondered, glancing up at his parent before focusing back on the trembling animal._

"_I'm no good with animals, Toni…" Lovino trailed off._

"_Let's take it to a doctor so he can give it a Band-Aid! Then it'll be all better again!" Antonio reasoned._

_While holding the bird in one hand, Lovino rested his hand atop the child's head with a sad smile, "I'm afraid it'll take more than just a Band-Aid to fix it, son."_

"_Huh? Why?" Antonio didn't understand. Band-Aid's fixed everything! They helped make his cuts go away so why wouldn't help the bird, too?_

"_Because it's wing is broken," Lovino said._

_Antonio's head tilted to the side, "Broken? How can it be broken?"_

"_It might've fallen out of its nest and since it's so little, it can be easily hurt. Right now, it _is _hurt so it can't move very much. See?" Lovino showed Antonio how the bird was hardly budging besides the shallow rise and fall of its chest._

"_But, Papa, if we don't help it, it could die!"_

_Lovino glanced at the clock. "I don't know if the vet's office is open. It's still early… he won't be in for another hour."_

_The tears now made themselves known to someone other than Antonio. "I don't it to die, Papa."_

_And for a second Lovino looked thoughtful, "Here, Toni—hold it," the Italian handed over the baby bird. "Don't move. I'll be right back."_

_With only that being said, Lovino left the room, leaving behind his confused and upset child. It was merely a few minutes when Lovino returned but to Antonio that was more minutes shaved off the bird's life._

"_Everything will be okay, Toni. We'll help it," Lovino announced. "Feliciano will be over in a little bit."_

_Antonio's grin stretched to his ears, "Thank you, Papa!"_

Lovino awoke from his dream with a heavy heart and moist eyes.

It was only a dream.

A memory.

Lovino was drowning in those memories—the times when Marcello had to yet to step into their lives and wreck their happy home. Just like his father did. Marcello had ruined his family. That man destroyed everything: his heart, his life… his son.

The annoying tears burned as they collected and Lovino hastily wiped them away. No time for tears. Especially when he didn't even deserve to be shedding them.

He hadn't earned the right.

The soft glow of the moon peeked through the curtains, hardly letting any light into the room. Lovino slid carefully out of bed and shuddered slightly at how cold the tile felt on his bare feet. Stepping towards the window, he opened the curtains further and the moonlight washed over him like a thin blanket.

"_Papa, look! The moon is so pretty! The stars are, too!"_

Lovino felt his wounded heart clench and the bright diamonds in the sky twinkled their sympathy for him.

He could only pray that those bastards wouldn't do any harm to his son.

And he could only pray that Antonio would stay strong enough for him to get there.

* * *

><p>He felt… warm. He was warm all over. Opening bleary emerald eyes, he noticed that he was not in the same barren room he had fallen asleep in. It was an actual room with a bed and lights and a window. Sitting up, he noticed that he was in clean pajamas and smelled somewhat clean.<p>

What had happened?

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and his head jerked in that direction, "Papa?"

The figure in the shadows paused, "No. I'm not your dad."

It sounded like a girl. Who was this person?

"Who are you?" Antonio was about two seconds away from cowering back underneath the sanctuary of the blankets.

The second in the room stepped into the light and had a genteel smile on her face. Her brunette hair cascaded down her back in long, relaxed curls and her azure eyes sparkled with the last bit of hope she clung to. The girl looked to be no older than fourteen. She kept her smile as she answered, "My name is Camille Russo. I think you've already had the pleasure of meeting my brother, Marcello, yes?"

There was sarcasm at the end of her question and now the smile seemed to be forced. Antonio nodded anyway. Camille sat down at the far edge of the bet since she could tell the child was still tense in her presence. It was understandable.

"So you're Marcello's sister?" Antonio said.

"Yes," the girl nodded.

"D-Do you think Marcello will let me go home to my daddy now? H-He hurt my dad and I want to know if he's okay," Antonio was on the verge of crying again but no tears would come. He had run dry.

"No… I don't think he will…" Camille trailed off, failing at thinking of a way to let the child down easy. There was no other way. There was nothing but cold hard truth behind these walls. "But listen: as long as you are in here with me, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Those bad men are gonna try and take me away again…?" the statement ended being a question as the child covered his eyes with his forearm and sniffled.

"I won't let them. And Marcello won't let them either."

"B-But Marcello brought me here. He would probably take me away again."

"That's because he _had _to bring you here. He wouldn't do it just because he wanted to. He cares about you," Camille said.

"No, he hurt my daddy and I hate him for that!" Antonio retorted. "He hurt my daddy and took me away from him! He-He probably made my daddy go away forever…"

"He was told to do that. I know for a fact he didn't kill your dad. He wouldn't do that," Camille replied. "And you can't allow yourself to think like that. Have faith. I've been in here for more than half of my life and I still hope that I'm going to get out of here someday. You need to believe that you will get out, too."

Antonio was quiet.

"So, let's start over, okay? I'm Camille Russo. What's your name?"

"A-Antonio Vargas."

"It's very nice to meet you, Antonio," the girl grinned sweetly.

And Antonio found a smile tugging at his lips.

* * *

><p>"There's nothing on your grandfather. I've checked all the banks here in town. And as far as I know, you haven't moved out of this area, correct?" Ludwig had just returned to the hospital minutes ago.<p>

"Right," Feliciano nodded. He had stayed behind with Lovino in case something happened. "We've lived here our entire lives. Mother said he never left this place"

"But that doesn't mean Grandpa didn't move from place to place _before _she was born. She also said that Grandpa was gone a lot during her childhood. That's far more than a fifteen year time span," Lovino began chewing on his thumb nail—it was a bad nervous habit he had picked up recently.

"I'm going to check to see if there's anything on the internet," Feliciano pulled out Lovino's laptop and as soon as he opened the browser, an email notification sounded. "You got an email, _fratello."_

"From who?"

"Arthur Kirkland?" Feliciano raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name.

"Let me see," Lovino held out his hands for the computer and Feliciano gladly handed it over. The older Italian hastily opened the email and there was a simple message.

_You didn't get this from me._

—_Arthur K._

Attached to the email were documents. Bank records. His _grandfather's _bank records.

"Who is Arthur Kirkland, _fratello?" _Feliciano wondered.

"A very good friend," Lovino said.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, and before I go, since the end of this story is near, how would you guys like a sequel? Or rather a prequel (whatever you want to call it)? I have one in mind but it happens before <em>Midnight Dancers.<em>**


	17. Chapter 15

**Whoo! This is the longest chapter I've written in a while. I'm proud of myself to say the least. Over 4,000 words! Hell yeah!**

**Oh my gosh, thank you for all of the reviews! I've never had 90 reviews in my entire time being on here! I could cry, I'm so happy! Thank you for all the support you guys are giving this story! The next chapter is underway so I'll hopefully have updated by next weekend. You guys surely deserve it!**

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**Enough yammering from me!**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Death**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

_**/37 hours, 2 minutes\**_

His stomach rumbled. He was hungry. That was nothing new. Sitting up in the comfortable bed, Antonio Vargas looked around, trying to recall his surroundings. Oh yeah. He had been taken out of the damp and unsanitary room and transferred to one he shared with a fourteen year old girl.

Camille Russo was her name and she was Marcello's younger sister who had been trapped here for as long as she could remember. He wondered if he would be stuck here as long as she was…

Would he ever see his dad again?

Maybe if he had run away like his dad had told him to, he wouldn't be in this fix and then Uncle Ludwig and Uncle Feliciano would have found him. Why didn't he listen? Antonio had promised to listen and be a good boy from now on and…

He had broken his promise.

The boy felt like an anvil was sitting on his heart.

What if when he saw his dad again, he wouldn't be wanted? What if… what if was replaced by another boy who would behave and not cause a lot of trouble? What if his daddy didn't love him anymore?

Antonio felt the thick, warm tears trailing down his cheeks in rivers and he sniffled.

"Toni, what's wrong?" Camille rolled over in the bed to face the child. He had totally forgotten she was even sleeping next to him.

"I-I wanna go home to my daddy…" Antonio sniveled. "I want to go home."

Camille didn't know what to say that would make him feel any better. There was actually nothing to say. If anything, she would end up making the boy feel ten times worse. Comforting others had never really been her forte. So, instead of resorting to words, she pulled him close with her arm firmly around his shoulder to give him the reassurance that he was not alone.

Antonio grabbed onto her nightgown tightly and dampened it with his tears like she was his mother and he was her frightened child. Antonio never knew his real mother—as far as he was concerned, he didn't have one. His father had said that she was unable to take care of him so she gave him up to his dad. And right now, Camille was the only person in this place protecting him from the bad men who he knew wanted to hurt him.

He could see them itching with anticipation and the hatred in their eyes every time they looked upon him. It made him sick, it made his heart hurt. He didn't like being hated—it was an awful feeling. And now, along with everyone else, his dad probably hated him.

He wondered if his dad would even come after him.

A knock on the door sent Antonio running into the bathroom and the boy shut himself inside none too quietly. Sliding out of bed, Camille let whoever was there inside the room. It was Marcello, of course. The Italian-American didn't let anyone else set foot inside this room.

"Good morning," Marcello spoke in monotone.

Camille returned the greeting with a nod.

Marcelo came bearing a tray full of food that would last them for the rest of the day and set it on the table for them. "There; you've been served, princess."

Underneath the sarcasm was the evident brotherly love he harbored for his younger sister.

"Why thank you, faithful servant," Camille decided to go along with the old joke. "I've been wondering when you were going to show up. I'm absolutely famished."

"Forgive me, young mistress. It won't happen again," Marcello gave a mock bow.

Camille's giggle died seconds after it escaped from her lips. Marcello looked at her questioningly; silently asking her what was going on with his deep blue eyes. She shrugged and moved towards the tray to fill both plates with sandwiches.

"Camille," was all Marcello said before the girl spun on her heel and glared at her brother with a frigid glare.

"Take him home. Now."

"You know I can't do that," Marcello remained impassive.

"Why not? For me? For my sake?" Camille demanded, tears brimming her eyes. "If it is then stop. I can't take this anymore! He misses his dad and wants nothing more than to go home! Can't you see that?"

"Can't _you _see that if Lovino doesn't bring the money by tomorrow at the latest that I could not only lose them but you as well! You think I enjoy putting them through this? No!" Marcello took a deep breath to calm himself. "I consider Antonio as my own son and I can't stand keeping him away from his father either. But I have to put _my _family first. I promised Mom and Dad that I'd keep you alive and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"At the expense of others you love?" Camille spat in disbelief.

Marcello looked to the floor and clenched his fists, turning his knuckles white. Then released and set his steely gaze back to his sibling.

"Yes," he said with a tone void of all emotion. "Even at their expense."

"You're a monster," Camille was too upset to wipe away her tears. "You're going to let this little boy suffer for something our father did years ago?"

"If it means that you'll have the opportunity to get out of here then yes. I'll do whatever it takes," Marcello had to keep struggling to continue talking about the family he had grown to love in such an ill manner. "Don't you want to get out of here, Camille? Don't you want the freedom you haven't had since you were child? I do. I want both of us to get out of here and that won't work unless we stick together as a family."

Camille, ready to burst from infuriation, retorted, "What _family?_ We haven't been a family since you agreed to be taught everything these guys know! I don't even know who you are anymore, Marcello! The brother I had would never approve of taking the life of an innocent child! He wouldn't even _consider _it!"

"Who said that I _wanted _to? No one—especially not me! I do what I have to do so I can get us the hell out of here and away from these people! I'm going to go through with this assignment whether you like it or not and if Lovino doesn't live up to my instructions then the kid will find himself at the bottom of the river."

"I hate you," Camille sniffled in frustration. "I hate you so much."

"Yeah? Good!" Marcello stepped out of the room and slammed the door.

Camille stormed back over to the cart to continue stacking sandwiches on the two plates. The bathroom door clicked open to reveal a very distraught Antonio. The boy ran over to her and clung to her leg with tears streaming down her face.

"Antonio, don't cry. Be a big, brave boy, okay? I'm going to get you out of here and to your dad. You'll be leaving tonight. I promise."

"W-What?" Antonio couldn't believe what he just heard.

"You heard right. You're getting out of here. Tonight," Camille nodded.

"How are we going to do that?" Antonio's eyes got impossibly wide.

"I haven't figured that out yet. But you _will _get out of here."

* * *

><p>Lovino was still scanning through the records and no leads. Most of the banks listed didn't even exist anymore! Still, Lovino couldn't thank Arthur enough for trying to help in locating the money that would eventually be traded for Antonio's safety and he had yet to get a good night's rest. He had two days tops. Actually, not even that. In less than two days, Antonio would be…<p>

No, no, he couldn't allow himself to be pessimistic.

He just had to find that money.

Failure was not an option.

Lovino rubbed his sore and reddened eyes. He glanced at the clock.

11:45.

Peachy.

Ludwig and Feliciano had left for the night after an hour long debate between the Italian brothers and a silent German. Feliciano was insistent that the guys who attacked him would target his older brother now—especially when said older brother was injured.

Lovino didn't doubt it. He just didn't want Feliciano present if it did happen.

The Italian returned his sore eyes back to the papers in his hand and all the lines on the paper began to blur together. He sighed. Being released from the hospital was such a huge relief. He had been warned explicitly to take it easy and to not do any strenuous activity or exercising for at least another three weeks until the doctor was sure his chest and heart healed properly.

But he wouldn't be on the sidelines. Whether it endangered his health or not, Lovino was getting his son back. He could not lose him again! He had already dealt with that agony once. He wasn't going to go through it again. The mere thought of Antonio not…

S_top it! _Lovino scolded himself. _Stop it right now!_

Lovino set the papers back on the desk to try and calm down. He should probably get some sleep. But without a child to say goodnight to, to reassure that there was nothing to be afraid of, to wake him up at the crack of dawn so they would have more time to spend together, with no child to love… Lovino broke.

He held the boy very dear to his heart—Antonio was his life and soul, the very essence of it. Curling into the neglected bed sheets, Lovino fell into a restless sleep with no little hand to hold onto.

* * *

><p>"Camille, I'm tired…" Antonio yawned, teetering between sleep and consciousness.<p>

"Just a little longer, Toni. I promise," Camille murmured soothingly.

The boy nodded and let out another long yawn.

Camille was waiting for the light in the main room of the hotel to go out. The building had been abandoned years ago and was the only structure of the plaza left standing so the empty rooms on the first floor were made for, who Camille named The Dark One, his workers that followed him around like lost puppies. And that included her brother.

The light went off. Good. She turned back to the sleepy child and placed her hands on his shoulders to grab his full attention.

"Okay, Toni, listen to me very carefully. I'm going to show you a door that leads to a tunnel that only you're big enough to get through. When I was little I followed it and it led me straight outside. There will be other tunnels that you will see but don't go down them. Just stay straight ahead. Got it?"

"Uh-huh. Go straight down the tunnel," Antonio's young mind could understand that much.

"When you get outside…" Camille paused for a lump formed in her throat. "Don't stop. Don't look back. Just keep running. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Go home. Go to your dad."

"I will," the boy nodded and was suddenly pulled into a strong hug.

"Be careful, okay?" Camille choked.

Antonio felt her warm tears on his neck and asked so innocuously, "Why are you crying?"

Camille wiped her eyes, "I worry about you and I am going to miss you _so_ much."

"Maybe I'll see you again," Antonio offered.

The girl shook her head, "No. Maybe someday. But not soon."

"Why? What's gonna happen?"

"I don't have time to explain. You have to go. Remember what I told you. The men outside will see you but I'll distract them. They'll get me but not you. No matter what happens, _don't look back," _Camille repeated her instructions to make sure that the boy would commit them to memory.

Antonio listened. He would make sure he listened. He didn't do it the first time and his daddy got hurt because of it. He would be a good boy this time and do as he was told. Camille then slipped something into his hands and he studied it carefully.

It was a picture of a family—Camille's family. She was just a tiny baby being held in her mother's arms and Marcello was probably his age and shared the same grin he did. He sort of envied her. She had a dad _and _a mom. She had both parents. He too often wondered what it would be like to have a mother to kiss and hold you and to sing you lullabies so all the bad monsters would go away.

"Take care of this," she whispered. "It is my most treasured possession. Where I'm going, I won't be able to keep it. I want you to have it so it'll stay safe and so you can remember me. I'll always be with you."

"I won't forget," Antonio shook his head vigorously. Camille was his best friend! She had taken care of him for almost the entire time he was in here.

Hurrying to the hatch on the floor underneath the rug, Camille opened it and winced when she heard it creak. The light did not come back on though. She beckoned Antonio over and pointed down the dark hole. The child looked scared though—he had every right to be.

"Here," she handed him a flashlight. "Don't be afraid. Everything will be okay. Nothing's going to come out and get you."

"Promise?" Antonio held out his pinky.

"Promise," Camille linked it with her larger one.

She hoisted and lowered Antonio down into the entryway. She reached and gave him the flashlight with it already turned on. He shined it down the tunnel and the furthest he could see was only a few meager feet. His heart thundered inside his tiny chest and his palms felt clammy. He didn't even notice when the door above him had closed and was left in perpetual darkness.

Besides the small breeze whistling through, his fear left him chilled to the bone. But he kept crawling. And continued crawling with high hopes of seeing his father again.

* * *

><p>Camille waited with bated breath at her bedroom door. She inhaled deeply and slinked out the door into the dimly lit room. Behind the obscured glass windows she could make out the silhouettes of the men standing guard outside. Their shift wouldn't be over for another hour or two. That was plenty of time for Antonio to escape unless the boy became completely scared out of his wits and stopped making his way through.<p>

She lightly made her way across the lobby and waited by the door to hear when Antonio had caught the men's attention.

_Come on, Toni, _she thought urgently. _Hurry._

"Hey," one man's voice was muffled because of the door as he spoke warily in Italian. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah. It was probably a bird or something," the second shrugged in the same language.

"No it sounded like—look! It's the kid! He got out!" their silhouettes disappeared.

Camille burst out of the door then and threw herself into the two men in an attempt to knock them over. It was successfully carried out and even left them a bit dazed as their heads hit the ground. She watched as Antonio's figure disappeared down the street and into a cluster of buildings and overgrown foliage, running as fast as his little legs could carry them.

She could only hope that he wouldn't wander too far and end up in the deepest part of the woods that surrounded this area. The road to the town's main center was easy enough to find if Antonio kept going straight and didn't make unnecessary twists and turns.

"Take care, Antonio," she murmured as the two men heaved her off and pinned her to the ground.

"Go after the boy!" the larger one, who Camille recognized as Cristiano, a man she despised and hoped he burned in the deepest, fiery depths of hell, ordered and his partner glanced around uselessly. They hadn't seen where Antonio had gone. Good. Perfect, even.

"You little wench!" Cristiano landed a solid blow to Camille's face.

She showed no reaction though. She would not be giving him that pleasure. He would not hear her screams nor see her tears. Instead, she spat the blood that was collecting in her mouth on his cheek. Cristiano growled and drew his pistol.

"Cristiano, what the hell are you doing? That's Marcello's sister!" the second man warned, eyes wide.

"Fuck Marcello," was all Cristiano said.

_BANG!_

Antonio skidded to a stop when he heard the sound.

Camille.

_Don't stop._

_Don't look back._

_Just keep running._

_Go home._

_Go to your dad._

_I'll always be with you._

With her words echoing in his head for him to carry on, Antonio resumed his long trek home and his tears glistened in the moonlight like falling stars.

* * *

><p>Marcello jolted awake at the sound of the gunshot, twisting and become tangled in his sheets. He stumbled out of bed and took the stairs instead of the elevator down to the second floor. By the time he arrived, a group of his fellow workers were already present, murmuring amongst themselves, demanding to know what was going on.<p>

"What in the world is going on?" came a gruff voice and unmistakably their leader. Or Elder, as Marcello had named him. He knew no other name.

"The boy has escaped," one man said, and Marcello couldn't think of his name but knew he had the late shift of keeping watch tonight.

"He'll more than likely head home," another spoke up.

"He doesn't know his way home, I'm sure of it," Marcello dismissed the tension building up in the room. "If anything whatever's lurking out in those woods will surely get to him first before he even steps foot in the right neighborhood. We chose this location for a reason, gentlemen."

"What was that gunshot I heard?" Elder grumbled, none too happy about being woken up.

"I apologize, sir that was me. I thought it was a wild animal but it turned out to be Antonio. I missed though. The kid's damn lucky," Cristiano had a smug grin on his face.

"Where's Camille?" Marcello wondered.

"Asleep in her room," Cristiano said.

Not liking the tone of the man's at all, Marcello went to check his sister's room himself. Not even being in there for five seconds, he came blustering back out, questioning where his sister was. The anger overrode the panic burgeoning in his body like an infectious weed.

"Where is she?" he shouted.

"I think she's outside," Cristiano replied all too calmly. "I thought it was a very beautiful night and invited her to come and stargaze with me."

"Cristiano, I swear if you did something to her—"

"Who, me? Never. I would never harm a girl of only fourteen," Cristiano had a look of mock surprise and the sarcasm was seeping from his words.

Without saying another word, Marcello walked outside, searching for his beloved sister, growing more desperate by the second.

"Camille!" he called out into the night. "Where are you? Camille!"

Noticing that the other men were just standing there, he angrily turned on them, "Don't just stand there! Find her! Now!"

The group glanced at their leader who nodded, "Find the girl. The sooner we do, the sooner I can get some sleep. Then go after the boy."

The men dispersed in all directions, scanning the area. And Marcello, without having the slightest clue, simply wandered, turning stones that had already been unturned, searching in every nook and cranny.

"Marcello!" the Italian-American ran to where his name had been called.

Ignoring the twigs and rocks pricking his bare feet, Marcello tore through the dense grass and stopped beside a man who had just recently joined their ranks, Davide. He was a twenty-year-old man that was still too soft and kind-hearted to be considered part of the "family" but he was determined to prove himself worthy.

The young man was looking down a ditch. A ditch that Marcello recognized too quickly. He pointed and that was all that needed to be said.

There she was.

Camille. Lying in the dirt as a mess of brunette curls and tangled limbs.

Marcello slid down the steep sides of the trough, nearly tripping in the process. He stumbled and kneeled at his sister's body, gently shaking her shoulder.

"Camille. Wake up."

Her eyes remained closed and voice silent.

"Camille," he picked her up and held her close. He brushed back strands of her hair strewn about her face and ultimately revealed the wound that had ended her life. Marcello visibly cringed, choking on the sobs trying so hard to escape.

"No… no, no, no," he repeated, bringing his sister's body close to him, hiding his face in the crook of her lukewarm neck.

Did she suffer or did she die peacefully?

Did she cry or beg for her life?

Being the brave girl she was, Marcello knew his sister was not one to grovel and knew that she had aided in Antonio's escape. He was proud of her.

He was proud of his little trooper.

And now, someone else was going to die tonight.

Setting his sister to the ground, Marcello climbed back up with a rage so profound, no one dared to challenge the new mission he had given himself.

Cristiano, standing there with a shit-eating smirk on his face, was the last to expect himself crumpling to the ground in a heap with the same abrasion that had killed his sister from a smoking gun.

* * *

><p>Antonio stopped somewhere near the sound of running water. He could go no further and collapsed against a giant tree, panting heavily and sweat dripped down the side of his face. He licked his dry and cracked lips, coveting the taste of fresh water trickling into his mouth.<p>

The rest of his journey was a crawl to the river where he bent over and drank mouthfuls of the cold water and reveled in the pleasant chill it sent throughout his body. Rolling over onto his back, Antonio felt his eyes slipping closed with each passing second.

He was far enough right? They wouldn't find him, for certain. He was too deep down the path too home and had wandered off the road upon hearing the river. Just a short nap wouldn't hurt…

But to be pulled from a peaceful slumber and thrown into another form of unconsciousness was the last thing Antonio imagined when he was being carried away from the river.

"Sorry about this, Antonio," a garbled voice said. "I hope your father taught you how to swim."

* * *

><p>The trill of a phone had Lovino grumbling to himself about how cell phones were nothing but nuisances. He reached over and snatched his phone from the nightstand and stared at the clock beforehand.<p>

2:36.

Who in the hell was calling him at 2:40 in the morning? Someone with a death wish obviously.

"Hello?" he growled.

"_Well hello, little brother. I expected you to be in a better mood."_

"What the fuck could you possibly want, Saverio? If you're asking for cash just hang up the phone right now. I don't have any tolerance for your bullshit right now. And I'm your half-brother, you fucking idiot."

"_But my brother all the same."_

"Just get to the fucking point already. Why the hell are you calling me at two-forty in the morning?"

"_I heard about your little dilemma concerning your son."_

"You're all the way in Seborga."

"_News travels fast brother, you of all people should know that."_

Lovino remained quiet so Saverio took that as an indication to continue.

"_I know where your grandfather's inheritance is."_

Lovino's heart stopped. "Where?"

"_It's underneath an old tree."_

"An old tree? I've got no time for riddles! Where the hell is it, Saverio! My son's life is in danger and I won't let him die because you like play fucking mind games!" Lovino demanded.

"_When you and Feliciano were little and your dad tore down your tree house, what did they use it for?"_

"Floorboards," Lovino answered, still not quite getting where Saverio was going with this.

"_Right—and in which part of the house did they use the floorboards for?"_

"The basement," Lovino said. "Oh fuck! The basement!"

"_Case closed," _Saverio hung up after that, knowing that Lovino would be too busy to say goodbye as he heard the phone clatter to the floor.


	18. Chapter 16

**hew, we are almost to the end my friends. One more chapter should do it. If anything, I'll write an epilogue after the very last chapter. I wouldn't count too much on it though. Unless some random idea strikes me that I feel needs to be part of the story, then the next update I submit will be the final chapter. It may seem rushed (and perhaps a little boring) to some and I apologize for that. I don't do fight scenes. I'm working on honing my skills for that type of writing but as of the moment, it isn't my strong point.**

**Thank you all for everything! You've made this story come alive and you guys deserve a big pat on the back for it. This double update is dedicated to everyone. I love you guys so much.**

**Happy reading!**

**P.S. Please vote on my poll! It'll help decide the future for this story! I will keep it up until the first chapter of the sequel or prequel has been submitted.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

_**/18 hours, 1 minute\**_

A deafening roar filled hi ears.

Moist air left wet kisses on his face.

The cool breeze played with his hair.

He was oddly… swaying back and forth.

Opening bleary eyes, Antonio groaned at the pain shooting through his head. His movement caused the strange swaying feeling to intensify slightly. He glanced around, disoriented and hazy, and caught the scent of fresh water while the roar only grew louder.

"Papa?" the boy mumbled as he was beckoned back to reality. He was having such a nice dream. He and his dad were outside and he was really tall again. They were out in the bright sunshine picking tomatoes and chatting. He didn't hear their conversation, however. It was like someone had hit the mute button on the television. And his father had smiled at him. He loved it when his daddy smiled at him. It made him feel important. It made him feel loved.

"Papa…"

His eyes trailed downward and saw the river crashing below, desperately trying to grab at him and pull him under. He screamed, kicking wildly in the air and the rope biding his arms bit into his skin like tiny fire ants.

"Papa!" Antonio cried. "Papa, help me! _Please!_ Papa!"

"You finally woke up," came a voice overhead.

Antonio craned his neck up to see Marcello standing on the bridge looming over the raging river. Marcello had his disdainful burning holes into the child's soul, plating fear into his heart and letting it flourish. Antonio's voice caught in his throat. He couldn't even let out another scream.

He then could feel himself being lifted by the man standing on the bridge and each time Marcello pulled up the slack on the rope, Antonio let out soft whimpers. He was finally up over the railing and set down on the metal bridge with his back to the river.

"Take me home," Antonio begged. "Please take me home."

"No," Marcello said. "Now be quiet."

"Please! Take me home! I want my daddy!" Antonio pled, not even hearing Marcello's rejection.

"I said shut up!" Marcello backhanded Antonio in frustration and despair.

A strangled cry escaped from Antonio as he was nearly knocked over from the sheer force behind the blow. A dark crimson mark quickly colored a majority of the left side of Antonio's face and tears glistened in the moonlight. Appalled by what he had done, Marcello nearly broke then and there but straightened himself, holding back any tears that threatened to fall.

Whatever was left of the man's sanity had died when his sister did. Marcello couldn't stop thinking of his sister and the man who murdered her, who in turn, he murdered without even a second thought. And now, Marcello's hatred found a new victim to destroy.

And said victim's name was Antonio Vargas.

This boy was responsible for the death of his sister.

If Antonio had never reignited Camille's desire to escape, she would still be alive. She would still be smiling, laughing and enjoying life. She would have the chance to fall in love and start a family of her own. All of that was gone now. It had all been terminated because this boy had been born.

"I told you to be quiet," Marcello's voice wavered but was overall heartless.

Antonio continued to sob.

"Stop your crying and be a man. If you're lucky, your father will quit being a coward and come and get you with the money. After that you can cry all you want. Until then, shut your mouth."

Feeling the fire burn within him, a low growl rumbled in Antonio's chest. How dare he speak of his father like that? His dad was a good man and wasn't a coward!

"You big jerk," Antonio stopped sobbing and was shaking with fury. "You're wrong. My daddy is going to come here and get me."

"Time's almost up, kid. And actually, I don't quite feel like waiting for your dad to hold up his end of the bargain. I honestly thought he'd be here by now if he cared at all about you," Marcello ridiculed, a devilish smirk on his face. "And pretty soon, you'll find yourself at the bottom of the Pericolo River."

_Pericolo._

Danger.

_Fiume pericolose._

The Dangerous River.

"You're wrong. You're wrong," Antonio shook his head and looked up at the man through his matted brunette curls framing his face. His eyes burned a bright and fiery emerald, showing a defiance that could've only been from Lovino's son.

Marcello stopped breathing for a moment.

He saw not a little boy but the man who had raised him.

Lovino.

Lovino lived in this child.

They were one and the same.

"My daddy is coming to get me," Antonio continued with a low growl, spitting at the man. "And when he comes to get me, he's going to kick your fucking ass!"

Marcello drew his hand back, fully prepared to hit the boy again when a firm hand grabbed his arm. It was Davide, a man with rigid eyes and determined expression.

"Enough," he said. "Don't hit him again."

Marcello snatched his arm away and stormed off.

Wary of this new "protector," Antonio kept out of the man's reach, glancing at him repeatedly to make sure he wasn't up to anything. Davide, who had lost a son of his own, could not bear to see Antonio be dealt another blow. It shattered what was left of his mangled heart.

And even though this man had saved him, Antonio didn't count on Davide taking him home. No one listened to his pleas anyway. Whatever Davide was saying to him fell on deaf ears for Antonio listened to nothing and no one but the chaos plaguing his mind.

* * *

><p>There it was.<p>

The money.

Right here underneath his nose, too. The Italian reached for the bag, wary of the splinters from the demolished floorboards. Opening the small sack, Lovino pulled out the check. One million euros and the signature at the bottom of the check indicated that it was genuine. The only thing missing was who his grandfather was going to make it out to.

Crazy old bastard probably forgot when he hid it.

Rushing back up the stairs, Lovino called Feliciano immediately. Now to say his younger brother was thrilled about being woken up in the middle of the night was stretching it a bit but his mood changed when he was told that Lovino had found the money.

"_We'll be right over."_

And that was where the conversation ended. Lovino slipped on his shoes without even changing out of his pajamas and waited for the headlights to come shining through his window.

_Don't worry, Toni. I'm coming, _Lovino held onto the check tightly.

A bright flash of light made the shadows danced along the walls after another ten minutes and Lovino ran out the door and climbed into the backseat.

"Where to?" Ludwig asked, already pulling out of the driveway.

"The old plaza just outside of town," Feliciano said.

"No." Lovino shook his head. "The Pericolo River."

"What? Why would they be there? You've still got time!" Feliciano stared at his brother as if he had suddenly grown two heads. "And why the Pericolo River? That river's unpredictable!"

"That's the exact reason they went there. If I don't deliver that money on time, there is no way Antonio will survive the strong currents let alone the fall from the bridge. And also because I know Marcello; he's impatient when it comes to something he wants. Like any other human being, he'll act irrationally. He expects us to go to the plaza first and that'll only waste more time. Go to the river. Hurry," Lovino's eyes were trained on Ludwig.

The German didn't even say a word for he was already speeding down the street.

Lovino looked out the window, soon becoming lost in his thoughts and the plans he had made in his head only seconds before.

"_Papa, who's this?" Antonio pointed to a picture from his adult-self grinning happily and an irritated but blushing Lovino. "He looks like me!"_

"_Oh," Lovino was looking over his son's shoulder and recalled the distant memory from years ago. "That's my friend I told you about—the one who passed away."_

_Antonio nodded then asked, "What was his name?"_

_Lovino, not really knowing how to answer this question, paused. Was he supposed to tell him the truth? Well, sure. Antonio, just as much as anyone deserved to know what was really going on._

"_Well, his name is Antonio."_

"_He has the same name as me!" Antonio said gleefully. "That's so cool!"_

"_Yup, he sure does. I named you after him."_

"_Really?" Antonio's eyes widened only a fraction as a result of his fascination._

"_Really," Lovino nodded._

Smiling to himself, Lovino felt it grow dimmer and dimmer the closer they got to the outskirts of Cuore. And by the time the bridge overlooking the waterway came into view, Lovino's smile had disappeared completely. Fingers brushing its sleek black frame, Lovino steeled his heart for the pain he knew he would be enduring in a matter of only minutes.

* * *

><p>"He's here," Davide said to Marcello who was waiting in the car with Elder. They were parked on the other side of the overpass.<p>

"Hmm," Marcello hummed, "I thought he would go to the plaza first."

"As long as he's got the money, I don't care where he went beforehand. Go Marcello," the old man ordered in a low growl.

Marcello stepped out of the car and back onto the bridge where Antonio was lying against the railing in the center of the structure. He nudged Antonio with his foot but the boy showed no response. The kid was probably asleep, he assumed.

Lovino emerged from the woodlands carrying nothing in his hands. His eyes flicked to Antonio and the weight of worry had finally let up but had not completely liberated his tarnished soul. The moon cast an incandescent glow, watching the scene with a neutral expression. Both men were about sixty feet away from each other with Antonio being the midpoint.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Marcello had to almost shout to be heard over the roaring rapids.

Lovino didn't reply and only reached into his pocket for the check and put it on display for all to see.

"Excellent. Now hand it over."

"I don't think so. Not until you agree to give me my son back at the same time."

Marcello was oddly silent.

"What, you take me for some kind of idiot? I know you, Marcello. You're a manipulator. Well, I won't fall for it this time. So untie my son and give him back to me before this check finds itself in pieces," Lovino remained impassive though his voice spoke a collage of emotions all painted on the canvas of his heart. That canvas was colored on every inch in every kind of hue, each color representing a moment in his life that affected his life.

"Why don't you tell Feliciano to come on out and join us as well? He's missing out on all the fun," Marcello wasn't looking at Lovino but past him into the foliage.

Lovino, clearly not prepared to hear this statement nor his brother appearing from the underbrush, the Italian didn't quite know how to react. But if they didn't get out of here alive, there would be two bodies piled up on his conscience.

Marcello moved towards the boy, untying the ropes at an agonizingly slow pace.

"I told you to wait in the fucking car, Feliciano. Why don't you ever listen to me?" Lovino chastised without taking his eyes off the duo from afar.

"Well, Lovino, I've never really been good at following instructions," Feliciano replied coolly.

"And Ludwig is okay with this?"

"Of course not. But you know I don't listen to him either."

The older Italian decided to leave it at that. Nothing more needed to be said. Marcello hefted the limp boy over his shoulder and for a split second, Lovino thought him to be dead. But all considerations of that fled.

His son was alive.

His son _was _alive.

His son was _alive._

Marcello halted only a mere ten feet away and held out his hand expectantly. Lovino waved the check in his hand while Marcello single handedly pulled Antonio off of his shoulder and let the boy dangle like a rag doll in the air. The trade, only fingertips away from happening, was interrupted by a loud ringing in the air and a cry of pain. Feliciano was holding his arm and the blood poured down his arm and Lovino was wincing from the bullet lodged into his leg.

Marcello needed only a glance to see Elder aiming to fire another round and this time it would be fatal. He practically threw Antonio into Lovino's unsuspecting arms and spun to face him.

"Two for the price of one, eh, Marcello?" the old man rasped, his finger on the trigger.

_Bang._

Lovino could almost see the bullet hurtling towards them in slow motion but it was moving much faster than that. One thousand feet per second. It would be here before the clock even had time to tick, before another heart would beat, before another breath of life…

The Italian shielded Antonio for the impact, bracing himself for it. Feliciano had made a move to try and get them to duck to the floor.

Marcello, however, jumped right in front of it. And the thud of his body hitting the floor was all that was needed to know that the bullet had missed its target. The old man, not caring who he hit, was already cocking the gun to release another deadly missile.

But the trigger did not click, the bang was not heard, and the bullet did not whistle through the air like screaming spirits. In fact, the old man falling to the ground was muffled by the bellowing waters below. Next to him, Davide returned his gun to its holster on his belt.

"What the hell?" Lovino couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Are you guys okay?" Davide began walking towards them, ultimately putting Lovino on guard.

"We're fine. Just a little bruised," Feliciano covered his injured arm again.

"Who the fuck are you?" Lovino questioned.

"My name is Davide Moretti. I am—I _was _an undercover investigator to try and figure out this mafia's inner workings. They've been stirring up trouble all over Italy and I volunteered to take this job," the man replied, showing his identification.

"Isn't that dangerous though? Don't you have a family?" Feliciano asked.

Davide's smile was pained, "No. They were killed a year ago."

Lovino, deciding it best not to comment on this situation, struggled to stand on his injured leg after being pushed to his knees by Feliciano.

"You need some help?" Davide questioned.

"No, I've got it," Lovino grit his teeth but succeeded in his endeavor.

Davide nodded and aided Marcello to his feet, "I'll be taking this one to the hospital. You can meet me there if you'd like. I do advise you getting those wounds checked though."

"We'll be there," Feliciano said, seeing that Ludwig was already heading towards them.

Davide left with a barely conscious Marcello, who was becoming more willing to join his sister in the afterlife with every passing second, every agonizing second. But where his sister had gone, he knew he could not follow. She deserved the light. She had earned her wings.

And him?

He'd be lucky if hell would even take him.

Lovino wasn't wasting another moment. Antonio was here in his arms, safe, warm, and alive. He brushed back the boy's strands of hair to reveal the bruise inevitably to surround his eye. If that old man hadn't pulled the trigger and hit Marcello, Lovino was about a hair away from doing it himself with the gun he had brought.

Maybe. Just maybe…

"Toni?" Lovino whispered. "Please wake up. Please."

The boy didn't stir.

"Antonio," Lovino felt the tears burn his eyes. "Antonio, please. _Per favore. _Wake up, _figlio. _Wake up."

When stillness was all he received, Lovino hid his face in Antonio's hair, praying, begging for him to open his eyes, to smile. Feliciano was about to put a hand on his brother's shoulder but paused and drew back, knowing his brother could be anything and a ticking bomb.

Seconds went by.

Minutes.

And in those minutes, Lovino began to lose hope.

"Papa…?" a feeble voice said.

Lovino was rendered speechless, his expression caught between shock and overwhelming joy.

"Papa!" Antonio wrapped his arms around Lovino's neck, sobbing in elation.

The Italian brought Antonio closer into his hug if that was at all possible.

"Papa, you came for me!" Antonio cried. "You c-came for me!"

"Of course I did. You're my son," Lovino noticed his own tears spill over but did not wipe them away. He was glad to say he was proud of these tears, these tears of joy. Antonio was home. He was back where he belonged.

"I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, son."


	19. Chapter 17

**Last chapter! Triple update! This is the fastest I think I've ever updated any of my stories - I think. Well, it's fairly short: a little over 2,000 words. I'm fairly positive there will be no epilogue so this is it. We're at the end, guys. Everything you have done for this story is appreciated so much that I can't even find the right word for it. And even if there was a word, it wouldn't describe the immense gratitude. Thank you all so much! *epic tears of joy***

**I hope you enjoy the last installment of _Midnight Dancers!_**

**Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**Warning: Language**

**P.S. Want to know what this story was based off of? Follow this link (erase spaces):**

**h t t p : / / w w w. youtube. com / watch?v=k7tIJ6pzOso&feature=BFa&list=PL730EE614F025A7D1&lf=plpp_video**

**(Yes, I named the story after the song).**

* * *

><p><strong>C<strong>**hapter Seventeen**

"All right," Davide had stepped out of the room and sighed. "He's awake if you want to see him. Sorry it took so long. I just had to ask him more than a few questions."

Lovino shrugged, "I am in no hurry to see him. Take your sweet time. I am more than willing to wait. In fact, take all night if you have to."

"_Fratello," _Feliciano's tone was weary as he scratched at the gauze covering the wound where the bullet was. "He may want to see you."

"Who gives a flying fuck what he wants?" Lovino ran his fingers through Antonio's hair, ignoring the slight pain his leg was giving him. The boy was sound asleep in his father's lap, clutching onto his shirt tightly and snoring quietly. His expression twisted every few seconds, hinting that the pleasant dream he was having could easily transform into a living nightmare.

Dawn was barely breaking the horizon, greeting the world with its warmth and radiance. It didn't warm Lovino's iced heart though.

_Toni's setting a good example, _Lovino thought, watching the boy sleep. There was nothing that he wanted more than sleep. His mind and body had reached their limits.

"Just go talk to him," Feliciano urged. "Ludwig and I will stay with Toni."

Extremely hesitant, Lovino handed his son over to his brother and entered the hospital room beside himself with annoyance and abhorrence. Marcello, chest bandaged to blend with his slightly insipid skin, didn't even bother to look up at who his next visitor was. Sweat was beading on his forehead from him trying to endure the pain kindling in his chest. Lovino shut the door, stopping in the center of the room, and the silence became barbells on their shoulders. Lovino wasn't going to speak first or even greet him. He didn't owe the injured man that privilege.

"Lovino," Marcello said after the longest time, finally looking up. "I… I know you're angry."

_Bam!_

Marcello's head jerked to his right and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The punch Lovino had dealt to his face burned like a raging fire and successfully left a red splotch on his face. Lovino, however, felt great. That one punch, that one single blow had been a direct result of all the hatred, despair and agony he had kept pent up inside himself for the past week.

"_Angry?" _Lovino scoffed in absolute disgust and disbelief. "Angry? No, I am _far _from just 'angry.' If I was just 'angry,' I wouldn't have thought about killing you myself. If I was just 'angry,' I would have even the slightest pity for you. But I don't. You've barely even scratched the surface."

Marcello licked his busted lip, tasting the hurt and bitterness he had implanted in this family's life.

"I hate you," Lovino repeated Camille's last words to him, effectively causing Marcello to shudder. "I hate you so much."

Swallowing thickly, Marcello struggled to control his quivering voice, "How's Antonio?"

"I don't ever want to hear his name come out of your mouth. You'd be pretty fucking lucky if God would have enough mercy on your soul for me to forgive you or let you within a twenty mile radius of my son. You don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and you don't even _think _about him! You understand me?" Lovino snarled, his glare intensifying.

Marcello nodded.

Lovino's intent was to leave right after that but as he headed for the door, it burst open and Antonio was jumping into his arms, shaking from fear. The Italian father barely had time to question the boy before Feliciano was in the doorway.

"He wouldn't stay with me. As soon as he realized you were gone he freaked out and ran in here. I couldn't let him cry and worry about you. I don't have it in me," Feliciano's tone did have some hints of malice since he too was peeved at the Italian-American who had sent their whole lives into a destructive spiral.

"Thanks anyway, Feli," Lovino readjusted Antonio in his arms.

The youngest Italian slipped away but not before shooting one more dark glare Marcello's way. The latter didn't falter though. He didn't even acknowledge Antonio's presence, just as Lovino had asked (commanded) of him.

"Don't leave me, Papa…" Antonio wept. "Please don't leave me again…"

"I wasn't going to leave you. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Lovino tried to calm the traumatized boy as best he could. And right now his best didn't seem to be good enough. The man knew Antonio would never be the same. Even if there was a bright smile and sparkling eyes, he knew there were permanent scars inflicted.

"Promise…?" was Antonio's reply.

"Promise."

There was a prolonging silence and just as Lovino decided to trek towards the door again, Marcello also decided to speak and his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Do you want to know why I did what I did?"

"I could really care less. Whatever sick reason you have for almost killing Antonio, keep it to yourself. I think you've earned that privilege," Lovino spat.

It was then that Lovino saw the tears glistening in the dawn's light did he consider hearing the man out. Why the hell was he crying? What right did he have? None whatsoever. This man was a monster and monsters don't shed tears.

"I did it for my sister," Marcello's shoulders heaved up and down. "I did it for her—so she could stay alive. If I didn't get your grandfather's money, they would've killed her without a second thought. And they did."

Lovino was rendered speechless.

"My _fourteen-year-old _sister was shot because of your _son. _He is alive only because she is dead."

"I _know _damn wellyou're not blaming my son for what happened to your sister," Lovino was snapped out of his trance after hearing the accusation.

"You're damn right I am," Marcello shifted his tear-filled gaze to his former paramour. "I should've known it would end horribly when I put them in the same room together. If Antonio hadn't filled her head with all these ridiculous ideas of escaping, she would still be here."

"He's four!" Lovino shot back. "Excuse him for wanting to come back home after you kidnapped him! And I can fucking guarantee that your sister was thinking of getting out of there far more than you give her credit for."

"I did what I had to do. Maybe if you could even comprehend what I was feeling right now you'd understand."

"I do understand, you arrogant bastard! Feliciano and I watched our father murder our mother when we were just kids! So don't tell me I don't understand!"

"You owe me, Lovino," Marcello didn't even seem to be listening to what Lovino was saying.

"Your sister, may she rest in peace, sacrificed herself for my son. And for that I owe her my life. I don't owe you shit!" Lovino's voice echoed in the room. "I didn't ask you to jump in front of a bullet for me! I didn't ask you to do anything! That was all _you! _I was perfectly content dying for my son!"

"If you were that eager to die then I would've happily obliged! Antonio deserved to die. You _both _deserve to die. Two for the price of one," the words were out before Marcello could stop them.

Lovino's breath hitched, "I hope you rot in hell."

"Then we'll keep each other company."

Antonio then mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. The duo paused, waiting to see if the boy would speak again. And sure enough, he did.

"Don't yell, Papa… please stop yelling…"

Lovino sighed. He was certain that those waiting outside the room could hear their argument. But that was beside the point. What Antonio muttered next left both men absolutely stunned.

"She's with the angels, Papa… Camille is with the angels…"

"Camille," Lovino repeated the foreign name and assumed that was Marcello's sister.

"She's happy. She's so happy to be with her mommy and daddy…" Antonio continued.

Without giving Marcello the opportunity to hear more of his sister, Lovino placed his hand on the doorknob, regretting his pause because Marcello had one more thing to say as his final farewell.

"If we see each other again it'll be too soon. Watch your back."

"And I won't hesitate to kill you," Lovino said coolly.

The door shut with a soft _click._

* * *

><p>With the incident nine months behind them, Antonio was excitedly opening one among the many Christmas presents that were practically stacked like skyscrapers underneath the tree. The four year old pulled out a toy truck, exclaiming happily and giving his thanks to Francis.<p>

The odd little family was gathered at Lovino's house, Gilbert and Francis visiting for the holidays, of course with Gilbert declaring, "What's Christmas without the awesome me? It wouldn't _be _Christmas!"

Lovino had (rather awkwardly) invited Arthur and Alfred over since it was the least he could do. Arthur had made an attempt to track the money down. The Englishman had accepted the offer and was now seated in Lovino's living room, watching Alfred lying on the floor and acting like the childish sixteen year old he was.

"Whoa, that's so cool, Toni!" Alfred grinned from ear to ear. "You should totally open mine next!"

Sienna huffed and reached for a present marked with her name, "It's my turn, Alfie!"

The teenager laughed, "I know, I know."

"Who's it from, Sienna?" Feliciano asked from his seat beside Ludwig.

"Um," she tilted the present so she could read the name scrawled neatly on the tag. "It's from Mister Arthur and Alfie."

The group waited to see what was hidden underneath the perfectly wrapped gift and Sienna tore at it, pulling out the present. It was a pink and yellow quilt, two of her favorite colors. Arthur of course had to ask her parents what the girl liked in the first place.

"Oh how nice!" Feliciano smiled. "What do you say, Sienna?"

"Thank you!" she grinned.

"You're welcome," Arthur returned it with a smile.

Antonio made a grab for the next present and the pattern of children opening gifts before the adults continued until the remaining had been unwrapped. But then, Antonio was puzzled. His father didn't get him anything.

He couldn't help but ask. "Papa, where's your gift?"

"Oh yeah, about that—I didn't buy you anything, Toni," Lovino answered frankly.

Antonio's shoulders slumped. His dad didn't get him anything for Christmas…?

"Just like you made mine, I made yours," Lovino headed to a room Antonio knew far too well. And the boy looked hopeful while sprinting after the Italian.

Curious, the others began to follow but before long, the sweet sound of music filled the house and the guests filed into the room quietly so as not to disturb the Italian playing. Antonio had sat himself next to Lovino, watching his father carefully and contentedly.

The boy pictured swans again, pure and gentle and elegant. They rippled across the surface of the lake, dancing almost.

"He's really good," Alfred commented and Arthur shushed him, saying that talking might distract Lovino.

"He's always been able to play really well," Feliciano added. "It's always been his gift."

The piece Lovino was playing was entirely different from anything Antonio had ever heard. It was happy and sad at the same time. It was bittersweet and heartwarming. Perfect yet showing the flaws of the human being playing it. Lovino had stored Antonio's previous piano song away in the box of his most prized possessions. He felt that it was meant for the first Antonio, not the one who had become his son.

No, this one was meant for his son, his fallen angel. His world. His everything.

A tragedy he thought would cost him his life had led him to be one of the happiest men alive. Or at least he considered himself so. He honestly couldn't ask for more. He had lost Antonio but he had returned from the grave. Becoming father and son was the last thing Lovino would've asked for but was glad he took the opportunity when it came. He wouldn't trade anything for the precious moments they now shared together.

And as Lovino continued to play, he couldn't help but think of what the future held for the both of them. And he hoped that it would be one where Antonio could continue to dance happily underneath a midnight sky.


End file.
